


Agonistic Courtship

by Selma



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Fusion of Star Wars Legends and Disney Canon, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Season/Series 01, Slow Burn, written before watching season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:22:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 73,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24650749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selma/pseuds/Selma
Summary: A strange artifact with a connection the Child sets Din on a journey that takes him to the wildest parts of Wild Space. Also, Boba Fett shows up but that's not the problem. The problem is that Boba Fett won’t leave.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Boba Fett
Comments: 851
Kudos: 1536
Collections: Movies





	1. From afar

**Author's Note:**

> Research for this fic was done by clicking through random articles in Wookiepedia and re-reading my Dark Horse Star Wars comics. Also, writing this fic started as a short scene for a one shot. That short scene turned into a chapter. There might be plot happening.

There had rarely been anything of interest to Boba Fett beyond the Outer Rim. The barely charted territories of Wild Space only had a few populated planets. Most of them had been put under the thumb of the Empire. Used has mining colonies or a dumping ground for the unwanted who could be useful later on.

An odd bounty or two had tried to hide from him out in Wild Space. It never did them any good but other than that, Boba had never had a reason to visit the sector. Especially since no gang in Wild Space had been able to afford him.

But times changed and he couldn't afford to be picky anymore. Not with most of his usual clientele gone. Not when his career had taken a slight detour. The recent regime shifts hadn't exactly done him any favors. The downtime spent in one of sarlacc's bellies had done him even less good. Still, even with his ship gone and parts of his armor corroded into scrap, Boba was still alive and kicking.

He'd crawled his way out of the sarlacc and he would claw his way back to the top. The fact that most of the galaxy still thought he was dead was only to his advantage. Boba did some of his best work when left to his own devices.

It didn't even matter if the informant for his current lead hadn't been able to provide the best details. Of course, this was something Boba had magnanimously forgiven. The hapless bounty hunter had after all received the chock of his life when he'd realized he'd tried to kill Boba Fett by mistake. And that he'd failed on top of that.

With that in mind, the man had been quite willing to give any information Boba asked for. Including the reason why he made his mistake in the first place.

Unfortunately, the man had been as incompetent as Boba had expected. There had been little to go on and tracking his new target had been trickier than Boba had first thought it would be.

How hard could it be to track a Mandalorian decked out in beskar when half the galaxy was after him?

Either the man was very good or the guild's hunters were no better than the one who'd mistaken Boba's dinged durasteel for beskar.

But you didn't become the galaxy's greatest bounty hunter by giving up at every setback. Which was why Boba found himself on some backwater planet. In comparison, it that made Tatooine look like a cultural hub. He set himself up in an abandoned watchtower the Empire had left. The position gave him a good view of the only remaining spaceport. It wasn't much to look at. The planet had been in ruins after the Empire had finished with its mining operations. There had been little through or care given to the damage caused. Not unusual at all when it came to the Empire taking what it wanted.

The mining had run its course well before the Empire fell and had been left a gutted mess. An empty husk with a sickly yellow atmosphere, somehow still in orbit. Now it served as a pit stop for pirates and anyone looking to pick up illegal goods. Not the kind of people who cared if the view was good or not.

From his perch in the watchtower, Boba had the perfect view over the old housing quarters. There most of the shady dealings took place. Without any deterrent, no one made the attempt to hide anymore.

Boba made himself comfortable, stretching out on his stomach and lowering the rangefinder. He settled in with his rifle resting on a bipod if the target took its time before showing up. There was no hurry for the moment.

The target had to be planetside and he was going to wait for right moment to strike now that he was so close. Until then, he only had to make use of the well-honed patience of not only an experienced hunter, but a good one at that.

He wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for or what to expect when he saw it. Boba had never cared about guild politics. If the guild's "good" reputation had taken a hit from the Mandalorian's actions, it gave him no concern. What did interest him was whatever the Mandalorian had stolen when he went rogue.

According to Boba's unlucky informant, it was enough to get a decent ship and equipment. And that showed why he'd never had any problems poaching bounties from the guild. Because unlike them he could think a few steps ahead. When someone took a big risk, there were usually a lot of credits to be earned. Why bother returning the good to the original client if the Mandalorian had found a new buyer who could offer more?

A buyer who likely didn't care what kind of armor the hunter delivering the goods was wearing. If they did, a lone Mandalorian might be the perfect time to pick up some better armor parts for himself. It wasn't like the other would need them afterwards.

The wait for the Mandalorian in question turned out to be short. It was hard to miss him even from Boba's lookout point from afar. Moving unseen wasn't exactly easy if a bunch of pirates decided to ambush you and hunt you through the derelict spaceport. At least, Boba assumed it was pirates. They looked the part.

If nothing else, it was good show. The Mandalorian advanced with a determination that left his enemies reeling. Even if a blaster bolt hit its target, the beskar did its job. The Mandalorian only lost his footing for a fleeting moment and then returned the fire. Sometimes with literal fire. Those vambraces definitely interested Boba.

Every attack and parry was well executed; a series of split-second decisions in the heat of the fight. All done with only one hand free. Boba focused on the Mandalorian. He was carrying something, most likely it was whatever Boba had decided to steal. Something that couldn't be left on his ship that had to be somewhere close by. Or maybe the Mandalorian was paranoid.

Not that he was wrong to be if that was the case. If he wanted, Boba could stop the fight right then and there. The pirates did complicate matters a little and it would've been annoying. If it hadn't been for the cold efficiency which the Mandalorian used to cut the competition down. It was enough to make Boba smile behind his visor.

The Mandalorian dodged and weaved with a single-minded ferociousness that Boba had to respect. Whatever he was carrying with him seemed to make him more determined to put his attackers down. Letting him tire himself out with a couple of pirates before Boba made his move seemed like a good strategy.

The pirate's advantage in their numbers did little to help them. Rather it made them overconfident and sloppy. While the Mandalorian fought as someone who had everything to lose and to win in every encounter.

Due the unrelenting force the pirates faced, the fight was constantly moving. The Mandalorian soon gave them the slip but didn't escape far with a short burst from his jetpack. Back on ground, the Mandalorian made himself ready for the remaining pirates. He crouched down by some debris and Boba realized that he was hiding away whatever it was he carried with him.

No sooner had the Mandalorian before the last two pirates caught up to him; a Gamorrean and a Nikto. These two appeared more alert, helped by the fact that their comrades bit the dust. Despite this, Boba is still surprised when the two of them manage to force the Mandalorian to go on the defensive. From what he had seen, he'd expected the fight to end right about now.

For whatever reason, the Mandalorian lacks the efficiency from before. Even with both of his hands now free. The pirates doesn't question their sudden luck but Boba does. The reason for the changing tides wasn't hard to spot once he looked for it. Instead of putting all his focus into the fight, the Mandalorian's attention keeps straying towards the hiding spot.

It's enough to give the Gamorrean, who's lugging around a big vibro-ax, a chance to get a little too close for comfort. An unexpected mistake but not necessarily the end for the Mandalorian. There's still time to avoid the path the mistakes sets up. No matter the outcome, it's not a problem for Boba. If the Mandalorian falls now it only means Boba has to deal with two unprepared pirates instead.

He's about to let it run its course when something moves among the debris. The Nikto is closest and turns to rush towards the movement and at the time the Gamorrean raises his ax. With the right step, he could've dodged it but instead the Mandalorian turns to stop the Nikto. As if his body moved before his mind decided to; heedless of the consequences. He's completely lost his head in the middle of a fight and that is about to become literal.

Well...

Boba relaxes his shoulders and exhales, “Oh no, you don’t.”

He fires a single blaster shot.

The Gamorrean's head jerked violently to the side. Before he hits the ground, the Mandalorian has already tackled the Nikto. He slams his opponent's head down and then puts a fist right between the eyes.

As soon as the Nikto is out, the Mandalorian from before returns. With a quick glance at the dead Gamorrean, he tracks the shot and turns his head towards the watchtower. Boba has the passing urge to give a little wave but both of their attention is quickly drawn elsewhere.

Something small crawls out from where the Mandalorian had hidden it. It's in Boba's sights for only a second before the Mandalorian picks it up and shields it with his own body.

And that makes Boba pause. A hunter protected their bounty up until they were paid. But no matter how many credits were at stake, it meant nothing if you didn't live to see another day. Boba had only come as far as he had by knowing when to cut his losses.

That moment of confusion is enough for the Mandalorian to duck into the closest alleyway and out of Boba's sight.

He flicks his rangefinder back to its upright. It's time to make his move.

**

The narrow alley is cluttered with junk and debris but Din doesn't let that slow him down. They're not far from where he landed the ship now. If there was any more pirates around, they seemed to have lost track of them for now. He doesn't like to call a victory before the dusts settled but they're close now.

The child squirms where he sits in the crook of Din's arm.

“I told you to stay put," Din admonished and receives a quiet whine as an answer. “You don't need to worry about me.”

Although, a small amount of worry might be warranted. He dealt with the pirates but the unknown shooter posed a new possible challenge. The fact that it had been in their favor doesn't mean Din is going to let them stray into the sniper's sights again.

All in all, their little excursion hadn't turned out as well as he'd hoped. The pirate infested planet hadn't been the ideal place for. But Din had counted on the infighting to keep the pirates from noticing them. He'd done his research before setting the ship down.

The decision to bring the kid along in the first place had been born out of mutual frustration. Before landing on the pirate infested planet, both of them had started to go a little stir crazy.

Din knew how to be patient. He had spent days tracking valuable bounties, never giving or even considering it. Yet it hadn't been enough to prepare him for a fussy kid. Din didn't get bored. It was a foreign concept. There was almost something to do.

He should've known that the kid wouldn't have that exact mindset.

It started small. Din had been slightly irritated by the number of times he had to remove the child from any sensitive buttons only to find him right back at the console. The fact that he maintained perfect eye contact as he pushed the same button again was what really did. After that, Din tried barring him completely from the cockpit. That didn't work at all. It only ensured that they were both irritated.

Despite this, the constant struggle, the child refused to sleep. He fought with the blankets Din put over him or kept Din awake by moving around in the bunk.

For a sleep deprived second he had considered tying the kid down. But that would've been wrong but also ineffective. The kid had been honing his uncanny ability to get in and out from every part of the ship. It would've been a source of pride if it hadn't been driving Din up the walls of cramped spaceship.

So he wrapped the kid up and carefully tucked his ears underneath a hood and went out to stretch their legs. Sort of, Din wasn't about to let the kid wander around by himself. But looking out from behind Din's cape would have to do.

For a pirate's nest, the market Din found had been exciting enough. He steered clear of the dubious health remedies and illegal tech modifications for sale. But still had been enough stalls with random knickknacks to keep the kid entertained.

They'd wandered around in relative peace for a while when the kid gently patted Din's arm, trying to get his attention. Din had stopped by one of the stalls, where a weathered looking Weequay was dozing behind the table.

The kid babbled in a hushed tone and pointed towards something on the table. A small, metallic cube that could've used a good cleaning. Din didn't recognize the metal, but under the grime it seemed to be holding up well. It didn't look like much but the child seemed unable to tear his big eyes away from it. His ears were flicking under the hood as he stared at it.

The moment Din took a step closer the weequay opened his eyes. His sleep light enough to notice any potential customer or thieves.

"Hello!" the seller said, smarmy smile in place right away. "What can I do for you, Mando?"

Din didn't say anything as he picked up the cube and turned it over in his hand.

“Ah, good eye! A rare find. Good craftsmanship.”

“What is it?” Din lowered his hand so he could hold the cube closer to the child. He could feel it moving around, trying to grab hold of the cube.

“Uh well, you know. It's a... uh, it’s rare!” the seller said, eyes darting off to the side. “Very pretty.”

Din put the cube down on the table again, “You don’t know.”

The seller looked as disappointed as Din made to leave. Underneath his cape, the child kept quiet and waited.

"Okay, so I haven't actually been able to open it," the seller frowned. "At least, I think it's supposed to open. Still, it's pretty, right? I'm sure it would look nice in any old spaceship."

Din stared at the seller who gave him a nervous smile. Din had found that the silence sometimes worked better than any attempt at haggling ever did. He had stared his way into getting repair kits and part for a discount before. On his part, the seller looked pleasantly surprised when the credits were dropped on the table in front of him.

“I’ll take it,” Din said and grabbed the cube before the seller could start thinking about setting a price for it.

After that, all hell broke loose.

Din adjusted his hold on the child when he stopped. In front of him the alley split into two ways. He needed only a moment to think, this hadn't been his planned path back to the Razor Crest.

Of course, they didn't have a moment to spare. The only warning was a soft metallic jangle before the familiar rustling of an arm being raised. Din had his own blaster at the ready the moment the unknown person stepped out from one of the alley's intersections.

The sight that met him almost made him flinch. Even if he knew it wasn't anyone the Tribe, the familiar shape of the visor still gave him a small sense of hope. It was soon replaced with trepidation.

Even Paz Vizla on a bad day would’ve been preferable to Boba Fett aiming a blaster at him

"You had a busy day," Fett looked at ease.

His aim was steady and he seemed completely unbothered by Din's equally steady aim.

The child peeked out over Din's arm, eyeing Fett with big, curious eyes. His expression was altogether too innocent for someone like Boba Fett.

“That thing got a name?” Fett asked.

Din grit his teeth, “Not a thing.”

As if to prove him right, a small green hand stuck out from, giving a shy little wave. Din felt his understanding of the situation reel a little as Fett, with some hesitation, returned the wave.

The pirate appearing at the other pathway next to Fett almost made the situation feel normal again.

“Back off, Fett!”

Fett didn't even flinch.

“Can’t you see we’re having a conversation here?” Fett said, sounding bored by having only two blaster aimed at him.

“This is Cubber territory and that there is property of Cubber Rak,” the pirate growled.

“You think your boss is going to be happy that you gave up his name to me?”

“Do _you_ think we’re afraid of you? I heard some lousy smuggler got the drop on you and now I got you right in my sights.”

Fett still didn't react in any way. At least not in a way that the pirate would notice. Din, who had grown up reading the minute movements of someone wearing a full armor, saw the small twitch when the pirate mentioned the smuggler.

It was a little insulting how the pirate had written Din off as threat once Fett showed up. A small part of him wanted to remind her that he had taken out or incapacitated most of her comrades already. Another part of him knew this would be in his favor, as soon as he figured out Fett's angle.

Because unlike the pirate, Fett was still giving Din his undivided attention.

“Cute kid,” Fett said as if they were having a friendly chat over some Cassius tea. “Is it yours?”

“I told you, it’s the property of- “

“Not talking to you.”

The pirate’s mouth audibly clicked shut at Fett’s clipped interruption.

“Yes,” Din said.

"Huh," Fett tilted his head. “Rumor is that the kid is a worth a lot to the right people.”

Behind the visor, Din’s eyes narrowed. It was true, but to him it was a true in a different way than he suspected that it was to Fett.

"We are a clan of two."

Even to someone who wasn't a Mandalorian, the meaning was clear. Fett inclined his helmet at Din's words.

"Nice necklace on the kid."

Fett said it in the same way someone would say: _Nice place you got here, too bad if anything happened to it_.

"It was given to me as a foundling," he told Fett. As long as they were talking and not shooting Din could still find a way out.

The pirate had at this point started sweating in a way that could only be described as aggressively.

“And now you’ve given it to him,” Fett said slowly.

They stared at each other. In Din's arms, the child sat perfectly still.

“You know,” the pirate whined. “This is not how you do a standoff. I mean, one of you should be pointing their blaster at me."

She seemed to be equal parts annoyed at being ignored by the two of them and terrified by it. When Fett turned his head towards her seemed to tip it over to entirely terrified.

“The only advantage you have left is that I only have your boss' name," Fett said. “Leave before I find out yours."

“I… “ the pirate took a step back.

“Last chance,” by now Fett sounded almost darkly cheerful.

The pirate ran.

Fett had relaxed his grip on the blaster. He'd holstered it before the sound of the pirate's retreating footsteps had completely died out.

"Do you know how many times that exact line has worked?" Fett sounded pleased.

Din didn’t move an inch.

“So, are you green under that helmet too or does he take after his mother?”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you right now,” Din said.

“You could shoot me now,” Fett conceded but in the same way one would agree to the statement that space was big.

"Or you could avoid drawing more attention to yourself," he continued. "Get a head start before more of those... "

Fett made a vague gesture in the same direction the pirate had fled.

"Cubber Rak's crew," Din supplied.

“Right. Before more of those show up. I’d get off this planet if I were you.”

“Planning to.”

Fett nodded as if they’d come to mutually beneficial agreement.

Even without a blaster aimed at him Din couldn't decide if Fett posed a threat or not. He'd heard enough stories to know that you didn't underestimate Fett and lived to tell the tale. Except maybe that one pirate.

But Fett had already had him in his sights. Several moments when he could've taken the shot. Fett who had... who was staring at the child as it yawned and nestled into the crook of Din's arm.

"Someone's all tuckered out," Fett said and somehow managed to make that sound like a threat.

Din suspected Fett rarely had a reason to talk in any other way. That it was the only way Fett knew how to talk.

“I… “ Fett started but stopped.

Din had the strangest feeling that he was seeing Boba Fett hesitate. Somehow that was more unsettling than having Fett’s blaster aimed at him.

“Kid needs his dad,” Fett finally said, his words sounding like he wasn’t sure of how they fit together. “Try to keep your head on your shoulders.”

And then he’s gone.

In his arms, the child turned up to look at Din as he holstered his blaster.

“No, I don’t know what just happened either," Din said.

**

From that point; getting back to the Razor Crest was easier than Din had anticipated. There no longer seemed to be a pirate hiding at every turn, as if they all found something better to do.

If it had something to do with Boba Fett, Din decided that too confusing to think of while on the run.

It was a shaky take-off without any guidance but Din got them safely back into space. Once they hit hyperspace, he turned on the autopilot and finally, finally let himself catch his breath.

Next to him, the child was settling down with the cube, still fascinated. Din held out his hand and the child handed over the cube with no fuss. The cube fit in the palm of his hand, making it easy for the child to hold with both hands. The ornate pattern seemed to consist of no individual parts. Nothing would budge, no matter how Din tried twisting it in his hands. As if a single piece of metal had twisted itself into the strange form.

The child made grabbing motions towards it and Din tapped him on the forehead with the tip of his finger.

“Think you can do better?”

The child scrunched up his face, batting his hand away. Din relented with a soft laugh and a quick stroke to one of the pointed ears; receiving a chirp in return.

“Here you go, womp rat,” he handed the cube back to the child. “Be careful, I paid good credits for it.”

The child regarded the cube with a serious expression.

“Do you know what it is?” Din asked, his voice hushed. “Does it have anything to do with your people?”

A part of him hoped it was just something shiny that had caught the kid’s eye.

He watched as the child studied the cube with half-lidded eyes. His hands traced along the surface of the cube. As if following along a specific path in the pattern that Din couldn't see.

At first Din thought it was the light from the hyperspace tunnel that made it look like the metal was moving. Then he saw the cube unfurl.

From it a soft light spilled out into the dark cockpit. It looked like nothing more than light hitting dust in the air before it settled. The child slumped in his seat but babbled with excitement as stars and planets took shape all around them.

“Huh,” Din said. “It’s a map.”


	2. Into the woods

It was definitely a map of Wild Space but other than that, there wasn’t much that made sense to Din. After years of doing the hyperspace calculations manually, Din knew the ship's star charts by heart. When compared to the updated charts, the map didn’t match up. It could have been a map of still uncharted territories or the map was old enough for planets to have been lost to time. No matter how he looked at it, the route and the coordinates marked out appeared impossible to follow.

That wasn’t the only impossible thing about the map.

The child had watched with patience as Din had attempted twisting the cube open again and again. He had even tried to show Din how to open it. But every time; it looked like all the child had to do was gently touch it. The cube seemed almost eager to unravel itself into stars and planets then. The child would always proudly present the cube to Din after opening; beaming at the praise Din gave. Opening the cube tired him out but after a nap, he was fine.

Maybe he wasn’t the one who was supposed to read the map, Din thought. The symbols on it looked like Basic but a little off. But it was more than that. It was clear that the map was connected to the child and his strange powers. Despite those powers, it was a long time before he'd could or would let him steer the ship. The only thing the map revealed to Din was a destination that he could figure out the route for. Every time the cube unraveled into the map, it was always centered on the same planet. Possibly a planet populated by sorcerers. Sorcerers who might kill a Mandalorian the minute he stepped out of the ship.

That last part worried Din but for the wrong reasons. Returning the child to its people was the task that had been given to him. Completing it while protecting the child was everything. And yet his feelings on the map bringing them to the end of their journey together were unclear. For now, there wasn't much he could do. Din had managed to find a spot on the map and that corresponded with the ship’s star charts. It would bring them in the right direction. Once they reached it, the next step might make itself known. There was a slight issue with that plan.

The fastest route there would take them right past the pirates’ nest again. Without any rivals or other deterrents in the sector, their grip on the passing hyperspace route was solid. Adding to that, the hasty retreat from the very same pirate infested spaceport had left Din with less credits and low on fuel. Two things they would need in order to continue their search of the mystery planet.

The jump Din had made hadn't brought them that far enough the pirates’ territory for him to fully relax. The next spaceport where they would've been able to stock up was further away, costing them more fuel. Not to mention also taking them further away from where they needed to go.

The planet Din had chosen to set the _Razor Crest_ down wasn't much better than their last stop. Its biggest perk was the lack of pirates. Other than that, it was a typical frontier planet with scattered settlements. Most of them within speeder distance from the spaceport that was located in middle of a forest. Spaceport was a generous description. It was nothing more than a small cluster of buildings and a cleared field. The field served as landing area for ships dropping off supplies. The fact that there was a fence around it to keep away the grazing nerfs said it all.

Din didn't have high hopes of finding work with decent pay here. But it was friendlier than their previous stop. He felt safe enough the let the child take the lead when they left the ship. Din followed at leisurely pace. As they passed a cantina, Din gestured towards it. "Let’s get you something to eat, womp rat."

While they were here, he could take the change to get the kid something other than ship rations. The child cooed excitedly and stretched its arms towards Din; wanting to be picked up again. He curled into Din, ears laying back as cacophony of voices met them when Din opened the door. The cantina was busy for a sparsely populated planet and so early in the day. Most likely due to the fact that it was the only cantina in town. Its patrons consisted of farmers and few pilots as far as Din could tell.

A stout Chadra-Fan with a chipped buck-tooth waved at them as they entered. "Take any table you want, I'll come 'round in a minute."

Din found them a spot in a secluded corner. It had a good view of the entrance while not leaving them exposed. The child didn’t reach up to the table, so Din seated him in his lap and ordered a bowl of porridge.

**

When Din had won the right to provide for the Tribe he had not foreseen that path leading him to this moment.

"After this it's going to be nothing but ship rations for you,” he admonished.

The child squealed in delight as he managed to hit Din right on the visor with a spoonful of porridge.

"At least you're having fun," Din muttered.

The child blinked up at him and then stuck a bit helping into his mouth; accompanied by an exaggerated 'mmm'.

"I know your game, little one," Din grinned. "You're not fooling me." 

This was not where he had pictured for himself but right then, the moment was perfect. He wouldn’t change a thing. Except a few more credits and less people out to get them. He scratched the child's ear in encouragement as he finally started eating again. This would do for now.

The Chadra-Fan, who appeared to be both the waiter and the owner of the cantina, passed by their table again. He put down a glass in front of Din and waved away his protests.

"Sap juice. On the house," he smiled and gestured at the kid. "Looked like you needed it. Kids, am I right?"

Din murmured something like an agreement. The Chadra-Fan looked like he was about to add something when the cantina doors swished open. "Oh, looks like your friend is here," the Chadra-Fan said. "You dress the same at least."

Din suddenly had an inkling of what some of his targets must have felt. Right before he pushed them into the carbonite freezer. A sense of inevitability settled over Din as Boba Fett approached. It didn't take long for him to reach them. But Din had plenty of time to cycle through different scenarios. None of them were looking good. The local security force would most likely not appreciate an unprovoked attack. A moot point for Din if Fett fired first.

As Fett came to a stop next to them, Din had already drawn his blaster under the table. The Chadra-Fan didn't notice but Fett definitely had. He paused for a second, inclining his helmet towards Din before sitting down across them.

The Chadra-Fan smiled brightly at Fett. There was not a trace of recognition in his expression. Boba Fett was famous but not even Din had expected him to make an appearance on this sleepy planet.

“Can I get you anything?” The Chadra-Fan asked. "Same as your friend?"

“No,” Fett said. “Go away.”

The Chadra-Fan harrumphed, all four of his nostrils flaring in affront. He quickly left to attend to other patrons.

“Put your blaster away,” Fett said when they were alone. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table top. "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead by now."

How that was supposed to convince him to put his blaster away, Din isn’t sure. So he waits. For an eternity it felt like. The gentle hubbub of the cantina surrounded them, the genial atmosphere a stark contrast to the tight grip Din had on the blaster under the table.

Then, to his horror, the child grabbed his spoon again. With a by now well-practiced flick sent a glob of porridge right at Fett who twisted his head out of the way. The bubbling laughter from the child is met a by a low chuckle.

“Shouldn’t the kid be eating that?”

“That’s the idea,” Din said and bites back the: You try do it.

The child seemed to decide that this was the perfect time to stick his hand into the porridge instead. He got more on his mouth than into it and Din can't stop the small sigh from escaping. At least the child wasn't making the porridge float like he would do with the ship ration bars.

Fett looked down and the napkin the Chadra-Fan had the foresight to leave them with, and then back at Din. He was keeping his hands were Din could see them but even leaving himself open was no reason for Din to lower his guard. He knows looks can be deceptive, used that himself to lull a target into a false sense of security. But Fett’s already had a chance to kill them. If he’d wanted to kill or capture them now, his best bet would’ve been the moment he first walked into the cantina.

Din doesn’t holster his blaster, but puts it away next to him on the seat. Without looking away from Fett, he picked up the napkin. The child sputtered in indignation as Din wiped his mouth off.

“Why are you here?” Din asked. He keeps his voice levelled and leans forwards, curling an arm around the child. He does his best, but intimidation is difficult when you’re also trying to stop a child from eating a napkin.

“I tracked you down,” Fett said which didn't answer Din's question at all.

Din tries again. “Why?”

“It wasn’t easy but I’m good. Cubber Rak’s crew might not be as good, but they will find you eventually if you stay here. When I told you to leave, I meant get out of the sector," Fett explains in what is still in no way an answer to Din's question. "They're not just after the kid now. You did a number on them. They got especially annoyed when you blew up one of their ships."

“I didn’t- “

“No, I did that,” Fett said, sounding pleased with himself. “But they think I’m with you.”

A part of Din can’t help but to feel proud of the fact that Fett had trouble tracking him down. Another part of him wonders if the fact that Fett let them go means that he actually is with them. He wants to ask but he's not sure he's going to like the answer. Or even if he'll get one.

“So, why are you here?” Fett said, eyeing the untouched drink in front of Din. "This isn't the only place in the galaxy where you can get sap juice."

Even if Fett let them go once, Din knows he can't risk it. He might change his position on that if he knew about and the child's powers.

“Out of credits?” Fett supplies his own answer at Din’s lack of response.

Din shook his head. At his continued silence, Fett grunts in what sounds like exasperation.

“Fine,” he mutters and gets up.

Din’s hand twitches towards the blaster at the sudden movement. He forced himself to keep still as Fett leans down close to him, visor to visor.

“If I were you, I’d worry more about those pirates than about me” Fett says and he seems to be studying Din’s helmet as if he can see the face behind it. “Like I said, I could’ve killed you at any time.”

Din tries not to be insulted by his the nonchalant way he said it. As if it is a fundamental truth of the universe. It's better if Fett underestimates him. Still...

“But I haven’t done it yet," Fett continues. “Remember that.”

_Yet?_

The child stands up in his lap and waved after Fett with the spoon.

**

Fett is nowhere to be seen when they leave the cantina. Din considered leaving the planet right away. Not only was it too close to the pirates they escaped from but now Boba Fett had reappeared. He doubts the local security force would be any help with either of his problems. No one even seemed to comprehend that it had been Boba Fett who had had walked into the cantina.

But this planet might be one of the few opportunities he’ll have to earn some credits for a long time. Here they have a moment to catch their breath. Even with Boba Fett around. With that in mind, Din entered the dingy building the cantina owner had pointed out to him. It served as the office for the captain of the local security force.

“Uh, what can I do for you?” the captain asked when Din stopped in front of her desk. She appeared to be a few years older than Din.

“I’m looking for work.”

The captain’s eyebrows did their best to meet her hairline. “On a farm?”

Din took his time before answering, letting his whole appearance sink in. “No.”

“I don’t think we have anything you'd be interested in.” The captain shoves the mess on her desk around until she found her datapad. “Uh, well, let’s see… there’s one thing. A few farms had their animals attacked. Could use the help to look into that.”

“I’ll take it.”

“Uh-huh,” the captain nodded but didn’t look convinced. 

“Give me the coordinates.” 

“There's a slight problem with that though. I can't send you off alone. Those animals that got attacked were nerfs, not some farmer's tooka."

“It won’t be a problem.” 

"Look, I'd love nothing more than to send someone like you, a big, strong Mandalorian, instead one of my people. But there's safety protocols for these sort of things. Even if you can deal with it on your own, I'm not allowed to pay you for it."

She began scrolling on the datapad. "I can make the call and gather a patrol to go along with you. It will take some time though, we're spread thin as it is."

Time to wait wasn't something Din had. He considered his options. The captain would probably not accept the child as a second party. He couldn't exactly back it up with the whole 'moves things with his mind'.

"What if," Din said, even as he knew it was another one of his bad ideas. "I brought someone else like me?"

**

This time Din gets to be the one who finds Boba Fett. Although he suspects Fett isn't trying to hide. He looks about ready to leave when Din finds him; doing some final checkups on his ship. It isn't the Firespray attack model that Din had been expecting. It's an older model but nothing that fits with the image the other bounty hunters had built up around Fett.

“Where’s the kid?” Fett said as a greeting once he spots Din. He sounds a little disappointed.

"Somewhere safe," Din replied, hoping that this time the kid would stay put on the _Razor Crest_ like he was told. “I need your help.”

Fett paused before closing the panel he’d been inspecting. “My help."

It sounded like it was an alien concept to him.

“Locals won't send a lone mercenary out," Din explained. "And I need the credits."

Fett let out a hoarse laugh. “Sure, I’ll help. But it will cost you,” and his voice takes on a leery quality that makes the hair on the back of Din’s neck stand up.

“Split the pay?” Din offers.

He expects Fett to argue about it but he locks his ship up before joining Din. "Lead the way, partner."

**

"Do you multiply when no one's looking? Never thought I'd see one Mandalorian around here, least of all two of you,” the captain said when Din returned with Fett.

“Only one Mandalorian,” Fett said.

“And what are you supposed to be?”

“Boba Fett."

Din froze. No one in the cantina had recognized Fett and he would've preferred it to stay that way. The less attention they draw to themselves, the better.

The captain on her part looked stunned before throwing her head back; laughing uproariously 

"Good one!" she wheezed, trying to catch her breath. "You're killing me here!"

“No. But I could be,” Fett said, and Din could feel him radiate smugness. "If I was Boba Fett."

“Boba Fett, on my planet… “ the captain shook her head, a broad smile on her face. "Funny guy you got there," she tells Din.

"Yeah. Funny." Din glared at Fett who looked unimpressed. "The job you mentioned?"

"Of course!" the captain said. "We got a supply shipment a while back from Kashyyyk. We think a couple of kinraths hitched a ride and got out to the forest. Judging by the number of nerfs we’ve lost these past weeks, those bugs breed like crazy.”

“What kind?” Fett cut in with a clipped tone.

The captain shrugged. “The regular kind, I suppose?”

Fett glanced towards Din. "If the ship was from Kashyyyk, there might be vipers among them. Venomous kinrath," he said and then tilted his head. "Also poisonous."

"What?" the captain grimaced. "You tried eating them?"

"Desperate times," Fett replied.

Din wasn't sure if he was being as truthful as he'd been when he introduced himself.

"Yeah, uh, you don’t have to eat any of them… unless you want to, I mean. All you have to do is thin their numbers and destroy the nest. My people can deal with a few strays. I’ll give you the coordinates to where the most recent animal attack was. You can borrow a couple of speeders if you want.” She looked apologetic. “Not much of a reward though, I’m afraid.”

“It’ll be enough,” Din said. He could deal with kinraths. People, in his experience, were rarely worth the trouble.

**

The coordinates led them to the edge of a big field where a flock of nerfs were grazing. A few of them looked up at their arrival but soon lost interest. The forest seemed to loom over them as they approached. The dense foliage letting through little to no sunlight. The pastoral landscape they had passed on the way almost felt like a different world compared to the dark and murky woods.

"Pest control is a step up for an errand boy for the Guild," Fett said as they dismounted and headed into the woods.

"You've worked for the Guild too," Din pointed out.

"When it suited me," Fett replied. "I go where there's credits."

_Then why are you here?_

Fett seemed to be treating the whole thing as a fun day out. He was almost strolling along behind Din, the grip on his rifle relaxed. It was difficult to picture him in any of the stories that went around in the Guild. Not even the quiet menace or casual threat did more than grated on Din’s nerves. He was seriously starting to think Fett wasn’t aware he was doing it half the time.

"Good thing you geared up," Fett gestured to Din’s jetpack. "Wouldn't want to get a bug bite."

Din didn’t deign that with a response.

"Kinraths are not difficult to kill," Fett continued, seeming on a roll. "One on one, they're nothing. Aim for the belly or eyes, carapace is not as thick there. It's when they swarm you have to keep an eye on their stinger."

“You know a lot about kinraths,” Din commented as they went deeper into the forest.

“I’ve got experience. Got hired a couple of times to hunt down escaped cargo on Kashyyyk. The planet is crawling with kinrath."

Din tensed. The forest was quiet except for the wind rustling the trees and the occasional bird warble. It was peaceful despite knowing what might lurk in the thick underbrush. It had almost made him forgotten who he had decided to work with. Escaped cargo. He shouldn’t be surprised. Fett had worked with the Empire. They hadn’t cared who they crushed beneath their boot or if anyone else was doing the crushing.

“You worked for slavers?”

The leather on Fett’s gloves creaked as he gripped his rifle hard. “Like Guild work kept you squeaky clean,” Fett said and shouldered past Din, taking the lead.

Din followed him. He was right. Din had never asked questions. Never thought twice why he was killing someone or to what fate he dragged them off to. Not when working for the Guild or during the brief stint with Ran. Now he hoped that it wasn’t true anymore. He wanted to be better. He needed to be better. All that had mattered to him before finding the child had been living by the creed and doing his part of the Tribe. That was still true but in a different way.

The child was a foundling. His foundling. He had known that the moment the child saved him from being gored by the mudhorn. Din had been saved even though he had been set to bring the child to people who wanted to harm him. Still the child had looked at him with complete trust. And Din had realized he wanted to earn that trust.

They walked on in silence, which Din was surprised that he found stifling. If he hadn't known better, he would think he'd been dealing with a friendly Boba Fett up to this point. Compared to Din, Fett had been a chatterbox. Which wasn't saying much but now the silence between them felt like a barrier. Almost as if Fett cared what Din thought about him.

"Thank you."

Fett's head snapped in his direction. "What?" his voice was mulish.

"Thank you, for your help" Din said. ”Whatever your reason was, you saved him too. Despite what we’ve done, we could still do that. You were right, we’re not that different.”

"Except when it comes to our fees," Fett said snidely, but he slowed down a little so Din was walking next to him.

Din rolled his eyes. This was somehow still better than the silent treatment.

“Why did you let us go?” Din asked.

“I already told you why.”

Fett came to a halt and Din immediately positing himself to keep watch. Fett let out an appreciative ‘hm’ as he crouched down to study something on the ground. “Does this look- “ he began before abruptly cutting himself off.

Din couldn’t see anything but he readied his rifle. It was easy for the hunter to become the prey, Din thought. That had been one of the lessons the instructors in Fighting Corps had tried to hammer into him. Sometimes almost in a literal way.

A creak and snap from above made Din turn his rifle skywards. Something big dropped towards him from the tree branches. Taking aim and firing took less than a second. The kinrath hit the ground with a shrill shriek and, like they'd been given the signal, more kinrath burst out of the underbrush. The nasty looking stinger already raised.

He heard Fett grunting behind as more kinraths dropped down from the trees above them. Din almost lost missed his next shot when he felt Fett back against him. Then he has no choice but to trust the presence behind as more of the things skitter across the forest floor towards him.

He realizes they won't be able to keep up. Fett doesn't even flinch when Din took a few steps forward, firing up jetpack. Din didn't like wasting jetpack fuel or power packs on what amounted to pest control. Right now, it didn't feel like a waste at all.

There were so many of them. As he gained altitude, Din could see the rustling vegetation that's out of Fett's line of sight. There hadn't been time for the drills he knows he needed. But he manages to get steady enough to get a clear shot. The high powered shot blows the kinrath away and thins out the wave that reaches Fett on the ground.

Below him, Fett had planted himself firmly and kept the kinrath at bay the best he could. It didn’t look he was doing any worse without Din at his back. The rapid blaster fire was precise and exact for every shot he took.

It was impressive enough that Din almost missed the movement in his periphery. His desperate evasive maneuver almost takes him barreling straight into a tree trunk. The jetpack still stuttered against the sudden weight. The kinrath's stinger waves in the air as they fall. The moss eases the landing but Din still drew a sharp gasp of air as he hit the ground.

The kinrath gathered its senses at the same time as Din and was on him in seconds. It was pure reflex that Din blocked the first hit from the stinger. The next attack hit him right in the breastplate, dangerously close to the gap in his armor. 

"You're doing great," Fett called out from somewhere to his left.

Din growled at the screaming kinrath trying to skewer him and at Fett. He blocked the third blow with the side of his rifle again and drew his vibroblade. Before the stinger could draw back, Din aimed high and plunged the blade right below it.

With one sharp, strong pull; he brought the blade down along the exposed abdomen. The kinrath shrieked and its legs scrambled uselessly against the ground. The stinger twitched jerkily before going slack as the wound opened up. Din has his victory. And also a dead kinrath on top of him, spilling out most its insides.

With grunt, Din pushed the carcass off him. He let himself simply be for a moment, staring up at the bright sky visible through the tree tops. 

“You done?”

Din twisted his head to look at Fett. He was leaning against a nearby tree, meticulously checking his rifle. He was surrounded by kinraths with smoking blaster holes in their carapace. He appeared to be bored. Din got up to his feet, grimacing at the nasty stuff coating his front.

“Got something on your helmet,” Fett said and pointed towards his own. “Right there.”

Din couldn’t keep annoyance from coloring his voice. He could practically hear the smirk in Fett’s voice. “Are you enjoying this?”

“Of course not,” Fett said. “I’m a professional.”

Din gets up and decides to ignore Fett for now. He does his best to scrape of the slime from his visor before he activated the tracker in his helmet. There were many trails but that only made it harder to determine where they had come from. But as Din tried to pick out a good one, he saw one that stood out among the rest. He went over to it and crouched down.

“Something big got attacked here,” he called over his shoulder. “Judging by the blood, probably a nerf. Heat tracks keeps going that way, looks steady.”

“Keeping their prey alive,” Fett muttered. “Charming.” He sounded pre-occupied. 

"We can track it back to the nest,” Din said and turned off the tracker and looked back at Fett. The sight makes him pause before he manages a strangled: “What are you doing?”

Din knew some bounty hunters liked taking trophies. He thought that it would’ve been beneath Fett with his supposed cold efficiency. At least something that you couldn’t find digging around in the guts of a kinrath.

Fett made a triumphant noise, he pulled out a slimy strand of guts from the kinrath Din had cut up. He held it up for Din to see. "Sweat gland," he declared.

"Sweat gland?"

There had to be better trophies than that, Din thought wildly. 

"Kinraths are blind. Their eyes only pick up heat,” Fett said as he walked up to Din, carefully holding onto the lump of oozing yellowish goo in his hands. “They identify each other by smell. We can mask our scent with this."

Without any hesitation, he smeared himself with it. “You should be fine with the shower you took.”

Din was willing to take a chance on that. One time was enough. He could already feel it seeping into the jumpsuit underneath the beskar.

Fett finished up and gave Din a once over. "You ready?"

"Yes."

"Good. Give me your comm info."

Din stared at him.

"Don't get your beskar in a twist. In case we get separated," Fett knocked on the side of his helmet. "You got a comm, right?"

Fett had yet to attempt anything but giving his comm info would be one more way for him to track them after this. He had already done it twice and a third time would be worrying. And embarrassing, frankly.

"What? Do you want me to buy you a drink first?" Fett sounded indignant. “You didn’t even finish the one you got at the cantina earlier.”

Din smirked. "As long as it's not sap juice."

He had a feeling Fett was rolling his eyes at him.

“Come on,” he said and clapped Fett on the shoulder. “Let's find the egg sacs."

Fett glanced down at his pauldron that was now also smeared. “You say the sweetest things,” he muttered.


	3. Lost and found

Once they picked up the trail; the nest had been easy to find. The kinraths had dug themselves a burrow, well hidden by surrounding trees. Attached to the trees closest to the burrow’s opening, were the bulging silk sacs. The eggs didn’t look fully matured yet but the trees were withered and dying. They made short work of it with controlled burns to get rid of the eggs. That was the way of the galaxy, in Boba's opinion. Some died while others got to live. It hadn't been the kinraths' lucky day.

It was easy working the Mandalorian. Nothing like when Jabba had forced Boba into groups when the big slug had wanted to make a big show of force. The crime lord had always liked to think that he could treat Boba like his own personal little soldier. Although he had the credits to back it up and Boba had never turned down a good offer from Jabba. Even if it meant working with other bounty hunters and mercenaries.

The pay at the end of it had been the only saving grace. Those jobs had always involved some petty squabbling and casual backstabbing. Boba never concerned himself with that. He knew what he was good for. That didn't stop others from talking up their skill or trying to outmaneuver Boba to get a bigger cut. Some of them had tried to bum off his reputation to get a leg up. Others had been desperate to impress him, little good that ever did them though. Sometimes Boba suspected Jabba had put him up to it to weed out those with more ego than talent.

The Mandalorian was different. He didn't waste their time talking. He worked with the same determination and efficiency Boba had noted before. A little green perhaps when it came to using his jetpack. But other than that, he wouldn't have been a bad choice if Boba ever saw himself working with a partner. Not that would ever happen. Boba was done with working with partners. Had been for a long time. At least in the true sense of partnership. Besides, the Mandalorian clearly had opinions on Boba's previous employers. Getting rid of kinrath didn't count. It was a means to an end. Once the Mandalorian got out of the captain’s office and handed over Boba’s cut, they would go their separate ways.

He had opted to wait outside while the Mandalorian dealt with the captain. The spaceport inhabitants that passed by cast curious glances his way. Most likely due to the kinrath guts and egg sac residue that smelled like burnt hair. Boba had received no more looks than the Mandalorian did. Even with his supposed death, Boba still had the capability to put the fear into people. Anonymity was a rare experience and it never lasted for long.

The Mandalorian walked out the door of the captain’s office. “Here’s your cut,” he said, holding out half of the credits towards Boba. It wasn’t much. Even the Mandalorian must have made more than this when he took on bounties from the Guild.

Unlike his father, Boba had never felt the need for a legacy. Not that he didn't appreciate it, he wouldn't have been around if Jango hadn't asked for a son. If the Mandalorian was looking for a legacy, the kid had a long way to go. Then again, the only other kind of its species Boba had seen before had been on Geonosis the day his father died. His ten year old self had memorized each and every one of his new enemies. Their faces carved into his memory even after revenge became pointless. 

If the child was like them then its value went up to instant retirement levels. Not that it seemed to interest the Mandalorian at all. He turned his back on it and instead chose a life on the run. Working for chump change compared to the Guild’s bounties. A thought slithered up from somewhere dark and painful. If Jango had done that, left the moment in he had Boba in his arms. Turned his back on that tangled mess of a job that led to his death, with too many credits and too many details in the dark. Boba pushed the thought away.

What had happened, had happened. Jango had taught him the basics of bounty hunting. Always move forward. Keep looking for the next target. The next payment. Anything else, like revenge, got you into trouble. It had landed Boba in jail. In a roundabout way, it got his father killed in the end. In that, Jango had the legacy he wanted because Boba never intended to repeat his father’s mistakes.

Then again, here he was doing something his dad would've been against in every way. But he wasn't there to say anything about it and wasn't that exactly that led him to do something so stupid?

"That's all?" Boba snorted and swiped the credits, pocketing them. "Forgot how cheap Guild hunters were."

"You agreed to this," the Mandalorian said. "I guess you're cheap too."

He was getting mouthy. Boba grinned. "Didn't I tell you this was going to cost you? This doesn't even begin to cover my usual fee. You still owe me." He slunk closer to the Mandalorian. "Or you could hand the kid over to the highest bidder and pay me off right away."

The Mandalorian was deathly still. For anyone else he might as well been sleeping standing up inside his armor for all they knew. Boba knew better.

“That’s not an option,” the Mandalorian said, his voice hard.

"That's fine. You can owe me. Let’s make it a favor." And they said he never showed mercy. If it paid more, then sure, Boba Fett could be merciful. "Don't worry, I'll find you when I need to.”

"Coming from you, that's worrying."

Boba sighed. This again. "If I wanted to kill you, I could've taken a potshot at you while you were zipping around in the forest like a swamp turkey."

A beat of silence and then: "Nuna birds can’t fly." The Mandalorian actually sounded indignant about it.

"I could give you a few pointers, if you want." Boba was definitely feeling merciful today.

"You don't even have a jetpack."

"Had one. Lost it."

"Doesn't sound like you would be a good teacher then."

"Still know a thing or two. For instance, do you know how many ways I could have sabotaged your jetpack today?"

“I was in the Fighting Corps. Of course I know.”

The Fighting Corps, huh. Not surprising but a nice tidbit to store away for later.

“But I appreciate the help." The Mandalorian took step back and Boba feels disappointed. "I will honor it if we meet again.”

“What if I ask for the kid?” he asks, voice dark and mocking.

“Then I will kill you.”

That had been said to Boba in varying ways over the years. The fact that he was still around proved that most if had been empty words. Now, he feels a slight thrill at hearing that time-worn threat.

“It’s good to have goals in life,” Boba replied, keeping his voice level. “I guess we’ll see when I find you again.”

What happened next comes fast and Boba takes a step back to brace himself, hand going for the blaster at his side. He stills as the Mandalorian steps in close, crowding him. Boba imagines he can see the outline of the other's eyes through the dark visor.

“You won’t,” the Mandalorian said. “I have an advantage.”

“Oh?”

“You still don’t know my name.”

**

When Boba got back to the ship the planet's single sun had begun to set. The ship had a name but it wasn't anything more than a formality for landing clearance. It wasn't his ship. It was a ship, no more and no less. A convenient tool that was easy to switch out when the need arose.

He has a few leads he could still look up before leaving Wild Space for something else. His contact in the Outer Rim might have something. Although making contact with that one was a last resort for more than one reason. His business planetside is done, not that it deserved to be called business. The reward for the glorified pest control had been measly. 

Boba is about to board the ship and prep for takeoff when he hears it. A cacophony of sound that pierced the quiet evening. He had put the ship down in the outskirts of the spaceport, close the wetlands. So it was easy to spot the source of the commotion. Out on the bank of one of the shallow ponds; the Mandalorian’s kid was chasing after a frog. The rest of them are croaking in panic. It mixes with the kid’s elated squeaks of joy that keeps going as the frog slip through his grip.

Boba wonders how something so small managed to get all this way. The Mandalorian’s ship is a good distance away. Since there was no one around, he allowed himself one loud sigh before he approached the child. The way the child looks at him when gets near almost makes Boba miss a step. Whatever it was, it looked at him without any fear. For a second, he is convinced the child knows him. Knows what he had done. What he could still do. He shakes it off as he comes to stop next to it and crossed his arms; staring down at it.

"What are you doing out here?" A better question might have been of it managed to get out a locked ship on its own.

The only response he gets is a quiet and despondent whine. 

Boba remembered all the times he snuck out of the _Slave I_ when Jango had brought him along on hunts. He’d been told off for it and Jango had upped the security every time it happened. By the time his dad started to bring him along, he had taught him too well for it to work of course. A scolding also lost its edge if it ended with getting your hair ruffled and a wry smile.

“The Mando’s fine,” Boba said and the child perked up.

He remembers the reason he sneaked out. No matter how great you thought your dad was, there was always the fear that he wouldn’t be coming back. That one day he would be alone. Boba knew better than anyone how well founded those fears were.

The kid let out a series of chirps and smacked Boba on the toe of his boot. It pointed with clear excitement towards the pond. Boba looked around before he picked the kid up. He kept its small arms locked against its sides.

“I’ve seen one like you before,” he tells it. “Uglier though.”

The child beamed at him as if pleased with the backhanded praise.

"Wonder if you can do the same things that one could," he mused out loud and isn't exactly surprised when he receives no reply. But when he shifted his grip to tuck it under his arm, the child started squirming and whining. "What are you doing? I'm taking you back to him."

He brought it back up to eye level again. It kept squirming in his grip but looked more annoyed than afraid.

"Stop that."

The child squirmed some more before coming to terms it couldn't break free. It looked its eyes on Boba's visor and it pouted.

"No."

The whimpering started up and somehow the pout got worse. Its lip began to quiver.

"I'm not going to- " Boba cut himself off. Anonymity or not, carrying around a wailing child was not in line with keeping a low profile. He put the kid down again. "What do you want?"

He could swear the child gave him a considering look before pointing back towards the pond again. The frogs had calmed down by now and were back to catching insects, oblivious to the imminent danger to them.

"Five minutes," Boba said. "Then we're leaving."

**

When Din saw them he's flooded with an immense sense of relief. Then and there, there was nothing else. He doesn't even care that it's Boba Fett crouched down next to the child. All that mattered was that the child was safe. Din landed down close to them and Fett doesn’t even offer a review on his skills this time. He was distracted enough by explaining something to the child, who seemed captivated.

"You want to go for the eyes. Tradoshan. Wookie. Rodian. Take your pick. Eyes are usually a safe bet. Now, with an average Miraluka, you'll have to throw them off balance before you get close."

The child nodded with a serious look on his face.

"Overwhelm their senses. Explosions are good, but it's better if you-"

Din cleared his throat. "What do you have in your hand?" he said with an even tone.

Both Fett and the child turn to look at him.

"You mean this?" Fett replied unperturbed.

The child was putting up an innocent look but that is soon ruined. Before Din can voice any protests, Fett handed the frog over to the child and the rest goes as Din predicted. Fett keeps staring right at him throughout the process. For a moment, there's only the soft crunch from the frog's bones breaking.

“It was a frog, now it's dinner,” Fett said. “Did you know he liked them?” he sounded delighted by this fact.

Din narrowed his eyes. He hasn’t had much experience with children. But he has a vague notion that you weren’t supposed to let them eat everything they found on the ground.

“In my defense, I thought he wanted to play with the first one, not eat it.”

"First one?" Din said.

Fett rested his arms on his knees; tilts his head at Din.

"At least I found the kid for you," and Din could hear the smirk in his voice now. "Another one you owe me. But I'll give you a discount this time. The little gremlin here isn't bad company."

Fett rubbed his knuckles across the child’s head, almost knocking him over. His composure vanished however, when the child decides to climb onto his knees. Even as Fett wobbled on the spot, the child continues on with steely determination. Fett ends up sitting back with his knees bent and his hands hovering by his shoulders. The child comes to a rest against his chestplate and gets comfortable.

Fett's helmet snapped in Din's direction and he feels something close to vindication.

"It's been a long day," Din offers before sitting down next to them.

Fett slowly lowered his hands. With great care, he stroked the child's large ear, almost with a reverence. As the child reached out and closed his small hand around Fett's thumb, Din felt himself finally relax.

They say nothing for a while and Din rests in the quiet evening. Fett is the first to break the silence.

“What’s the plan here?"

“I will protect him.”

Fett turns to look at Din. “That’s all?”

“What else is there?” 

"I assumed you had another buyer lined up. Someone who offered you more for the kid. I was going to kill you for it," Fett said it like his whole plan to kill Din and steal the child was nothing but a fanciful notion, all in the past.

"The Empire, what's left of them," Din said, the words coming to him slowly. "They want him."

Fett sucked in a breath. He seemed transfixed by the small hand still holding onto him. "They can't have him."

Din supposes that he would know better than anyone what they were capable of doing. What they were capable to make others do for them.

If it means saving the child from anyone who wished to harm him, then Din knows that he would do anything. Even if meant that he would have to leave the child. If the map is all he has, then he would follow it wherever it led them.

"Do you still work for them?"

"I never worked for them, I worked for credits. Still do. If the rest of the galaxy wants to complicate it, that's on them," Fett replied. "Right now, they’re not worth the risk for me anymore. Bunch of warlords fighting with each other. Wild Space pirates would be a steadier line of work. "

“Too bad you blew up their ship."

"They'll get over it. If they don't, they have enemies who can afford me. There will always be someone willing to pay. Even the New Republic once the dust settles."

"That's it?" Din whispers. "You don't regret working for them?"

Fett laughed but it sounded like he was going through general mechanics of it, rather than genuine laughter.

"What would be the point? Regret doesn't change anything. You had to have worked for them too, at one point. That's what happened, wasn't it? You took a bounty and then you couldn't go through with it."

Din wasn’t sure if there’s disdain in Fett’s voice or not. What he had done was not the way of a bounty hunter, but then Din had had something else to guide him. Unlike Fett who had never been on the best of terms with the Guild or anyone else.

“I found him,” Din said. “I was found once too. He is mine to protect now.”

He doesn't say: He saved me. We saved each other. That even before that, when the cradled opened, Din had known what the right choice was. There had been no other choice.

"This is the way." The words still brings him comfort, assures him of his path forward.

“In my experience, there’s always more ways than one," Fett said. "The galaxy doesn't care if you pick the right or the wrong one. Results are the same. Someone survives and someone dies."

The Din Djarin from before had believed that too, before the child's fate got tied to his. That man wouldn't have hesitated to kill Davan on the prison ship. Wouldn't have thought twice about killing Burg, Mayfield and Xi'an. That Din Djarin would have seen it as a necessity of life. He’s still prepared to do anything to survive, but he had to be worth it, for the child.

"But you care," Fett growled as if responding to Din's thoughts. "Maybe I should've corrected my aim when I first saw you, taken a different shot. All I've done now is postpone the inevitable for you."

Din doesn’t move. Doesn’t reach for his blaster. He doesn’t trust Fett. Not by far. But he knows the reason Fett let them go. He had told him why from the very start.

“How did he die?”

Fett doesn’t say anything and Din wonders if he has overstepped, if he misread.

“Doesn’t matter how," Fett finally said. "I was too young to stop it, so he died. That's one thing I regret, I suppose. Still doesn't change anything."

"You saved me," Din says quietly. "You let us go."

"Who knows if it made a difference. Maybe I wouldn’t have regretted it if I let you die. But here we are."

"If it helps, I don't regret it."

This time Fett laughs for real and Din finds that he likes it.

**

Din offered to carry the child back.

"No!" Boba said, stilling as the child murmured in his sleep. "It's fine," he said, lowering his voice. "This is fine." The child held on with a firm grip on his hand even as he slept the entire way back to the _Razor Crest_.

When Din lowered the ramp light spilled out from inside the ship. Next to him, Boba angled himself to block the light coming from the inside the ship from reaching the child. His posture was stiff. Gone was the swaggering menace which he carried himself with before. He hadn't shifted his hold at all for the entire walk back with the child in his arms.

“Guess you want this back?” Fett glanced at him and then back at the sleeping child.

“I did pay you,” Din said drily. 

“You didn’t, but you will someday."

Din rolled his eyes. The menacing delivery of Boba's vague threat was somewhat marred. Especially at the moment, with the great care he took when he handed the child back to Din. He extracted his hand from the child's grip the same way one would disarm ordinance.

The child snuffled in his sleep but didn't wake up. Boba let out a puff of air.

“You should get out of the sector," he said.

"I know."

Boba stared at him. "Whatever it is that's keeping you here, it's for the kid?"

"Yes."

Boba nodded. "You should get the kid a blaster. If he keeps wandering out by himself."

Din is a man of few word so finding himself speechless is new.

“Don’t give me that look. I meant a palmgun or a Q2-blaster.” He holds his hands apart to illustrate. "Something small to start with.”

“I’m not giving you a look," Din said, and then, after some consideration: "And I'm not giving him a blaster."

“Don't forget who you’re talking to.” Boba gestured at his own helmeted head. “You never get a good sabacc face when you wear them all the time. I know what’s going on under there.”

Somehow the implication feels too intimate. Din bristles at his words. “Is that what you do?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

Din feels like he’s missing something.

As Boba turned to leave, the child stirred in Din's arms. Still drowsy, the child mumbled wordlessly and waved at Boba who gives a lazy salute in return. He chuckled as the child tried to mimic him but ends up giving himself a light slap in the face instead.

"Wait." Din said. "Here, take this." With a few taps to his vambrace, Boba received his comm info. "If you need that favor."

Boba barked out a quiet laugh. "And I didn't even have to buy you another drink to get it. You are cheap."

Din had a sudden desire, unfamiliar in its intensity, to punch something.

**

After he watched Boba disappear into the night with a drawled: "I'll be seeing you, Mando." Din closed the ramp up behind them.

"Can you believe him, womp rat?" Din muttered to the child, getting ready to tuck him in. "Giving you a blaster?"

The child has already learned what buttons in the cockpit were the most fun to push. Din wasn’t looking to add 'accidentally getting shot' to his worries. But, and his heart aches at the thought, he hopes he will be the one to teach him when the time comes.

The child responded with what sounded like his best attempt to mimic blaster fire.

"We'll have to wait before you can try that." Din moved to put the child down in the sleeping compartment but paused with a frown. "How many frogs did you eat?" he asks the child who only babbled with a pleased expression on his face.

“Don’t act like I don’t feed you," Din said as he gently hefted the child. If he didn't know any better he could swear that the action made a jangling sound. And then the child claps his hands in delight as the credits slipped out the robes and down onto the sleeping mat.

There had been a moment when he thought he understood Boba Fett. As he picked the credits up and tucked the child in, Din wonders if he knows anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boba: Heeey, I seem to have lost my comm, can I have yours?


	4. Imposter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba Fett goes camping on Nal Hutta. He hates it and someone dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based this chapter on the comic Dark Horse/Star Wars comic _Twin Engines of Destruction_. I’m not fanatical about the old canon but the idea of Dengar being the one to save Boba after the sarlacc stuck with me. (Mostly because that version has Boba Fett as best man at Dengar’s wedding which is hilarious. All I can see is him in full armor but with a nice little bowtie for the occasion.) I didn’t want too much exposition but still not make it completely confusing if you’ve never read the comic. Hope I managed to find the right balance.

The ship was quiet and he was alone again. It was as it should be. What Boba had done had been a rare self-indulgence. A distraction that he allowed himself knowing it would never happen again.

That was a nice lie.

The fact that he had allowed himself to show mercy in the first place already set him up for future failures. In battle there could be no mercy, his father once told him. _Be wary of distractions, they offer only failure._

It wasn't even the only lie he told lately. Boba had lied to the Mandalorian as well. He had been enjoying himself. Hard not too when the big bad warrior had puffed up like a tooka protecting her kittens. All flustered and annoyed beneath the beskar. He'd been itching to throw a punch just to see what the Mando would do. What he could do. He might have done it if it hadn't been for the kid. Then again, he wouldn't allowed himself to be distracted if it wasn't for the kid.

Now there was no rush and the ship drifted idle as he considered his next move. Except his thoughts won't settle, returning back to the same thing over and over again.

Boba was almost grateful when the hail on the ship's comm unit came through. He still let it go unanswered for a few seconds because of who it was contacting him. “How did you get my comm?”

“You gave it to me.” Dengar’s face and gravelly voice was grating even through a hologram.

“Doesn’t sound like me.”

“Yeah, well… ” Dengar glanced off to the side. “You were pretty out of it with painkillers at the time.”

Boba closed his eyes against the brightness of the hologram. His brush with death in the sarlacc's gullet had been horrifying in ways he didn't care to examine. That the experience had been at the courtesy of a blind, at the time, Han Solo had been mortifying. His feelings about the fact that it had been Dengar who then found him were indefinable. Dengar had the good sense to keep his mouth shut about it.

“Manaroo says ‘hi’ by the way.”

Too bad that it was the only thing he would keep his mouth shut about. Everything else was free game. That Boba left him to carry on one-sided conversations most of the time never seemed to trouble him.

“I’ll just tell her you said hello then,” Dengar said. “If you’re not busy, I’ve got job for us.”

 _For us_. Meaning Dengar had found something profitable that was beyond his skills. Boba didn't mind paying the small finder's fee. He could respect the practicality and a bit of common sense. Dengar was cunning in his own way. Besides, that had been what Boba had promised Dengar on Tatooine in exchange for his life. It had also kept the certainty of Boba's continued survival away from the eyes and ears of the Republic. By now, Dengar was well on his way on getting that retirement fund.

“I ran into your twin on Fluwhaka."

Boba felt cold, his limbs buzzing with a sudden rush of adrenaline. Without thinking, he leaned forward towards the hologram. "Who?"

Dengar looked taken aback. "Some guy with the same armor as you. But his comes with fancy yellow detailing."

Not the Mandalorian then.

"Thought you were going for a new look," Dengar continued. "Realized pretty soon that he was way too sloppy for it to be you. That and the fact that I got a blaster jammed into the back of my head when I went to say hello." He trailed off, looking thoughtful. "Okay, so that last part would be something you'd do."

Yet Boba had still survived at Dengar's mercy.

"He goes by the name of Jodo Kast when he's not pretending to be you. Been making a lot of noise and getting a lot of work with your kind of fees. Won't be long before the Republic starts paying attention. It's time we dumped the trash."

“Slow and painful?”

There was a nasty edge in Dengar's easy smile. “Wouldn’t be calling you if that wasn’t what I was planning.”

**

Dengar was already a couple of drinks in when Boba arrived to the bar on Paqualis. It's not the worst place he'd been to but Boba suspected dimmed light the bar favored was because how well it hid the stains.

“There you are. I wondered what was taking you so long,” Dengar said as Boba sat down. “You hired Kast?”

“Yes.”

House of Benelex had been easy to deceive. A simple disguise and fake credentials was all it took for them to send one of their hunters to his death. Not even his snide comment had made the Guild representative blink.

_"He's expensive. Any particular reason you want him?" ___

____

____

_"Boba Fett isn't available."_

He was relieved it had been a quick deal and to be out of the disguise and back in his armor again. Without it he felt like he'd been flayed. Even now his skin feels like its itching. Paqualis and the Inner Rim were too close to the Core and the New Republic for his liking. Boba doesn't think he's very high on their priority list but he doesn't put it past Solo to keep a grudge. They were alike in that way.

To his annoyance, Dengar was in no rush.

“Manaroo decided to sit this one out,” Dengar said, nursing his drink.

“I’m devastated.” Boba deadpanned.

“She had no objections, didn't exactly like the thought of me being shot in the back either. But you creep her out a little. Could be because you've also tried to shoot in me in the back."

Boba leaned back in his seat. "I disabled your ship and left you drifting," he said. "After that, I drugged you and dumped you out in the desert on Tatooine."

“My bad," Dengar sneered. "That’s way better than being shot in the back."

“You’re still alive."

“And how very fortunate you are.”

Boba drummed his fingers on the table, slow and deliberate. "I could shoot you in the back if you prefer?"

"Nah, I'm good." To Boba's relief, Dengar said the same to the waitress. "But Manaroo wanted me to ask you about the scars. She thought they should've healed up by now."

“They’re fine.”

There were days Boba missed it when he had to compete with Dengar for bounties where 'or alive' had been optional. Talking to an emotionless and ruthless cyborg was more straightforward.

Dengar quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah, you’re probably back to your old good looks by now. You got good genes from what I remember about Jango." He chuckled. "Too bad you never take that bucket off."

The propaganda holos had been everywhere when the old Republic had rolled out its brand new clone army. It wasn't difficult for the people who had moved in the same circles as Jango Fett to put two and two together. The second part of the deal was less known. Boba wanted to keep it that way. He'd never doubted that he was his father's son, but there were those who would.

Boba used to see Jango every time he looked in a mirror. But as he grew older, there were times when he saw other faces too. There was a small difference between ordering a weapon and requesting a legacy. Now when he looked in the mirror, Boba wasn't sure how much of Jango was left in his reflection.

**

“Stars, where did you find this hunk of junk? In the sarlacc’s belly?” Dengar trailed after Boba. He stopped on his way up the ramp to give the ship a good kick. "Practically a suicide sled."

"It serves my needs for now."

Dengar followed him up to the cockpit. He kept up a running commentary as Boba raised the ship.

“ _Slave I, now that was a nice ship. You spruced it up real good.” Dengar glanced at him. “You tried finding it again?”_

__

__

Boba punched in the final command and the ship entered hyperspace.

“Sore subject? Sorry for asking,” Dengar said, not sounding sorry at all. “It was a nice ship you had. A real legacy. Guess you’re not going the usual route of getting old _and_ sentimental.”

“Like you?”

Dengar shrugged. “Sure. But I had my brain scoped out and replaced by circuitry by the Empire. Hard to not be sentimental when I never thought I'd care about anything again."

He got a dumb look on his face and Boba imagined how easy it would be to space him. It would be a good fight, sure, but one he would win.

"Manaroo is really something special, Fett."

“She has to be to put up with you,” Boba muttered.

“Is that any way to talk to the guy who saved your life?”

“You only saved me after you tried strangling me."

Dengar grimaced and scratched hard at his cheek. "Yeah. But in my defense, it's you we're talking about here."

Boba nodded. If Dengar had tried to kill him and Boba had found him half-dead out in the desert, he'd try to strangle him too. The only difference would've been that Manaroo's presence wouldn't have stopped Boba.

“So, you gonna tell me what you were up to all the way out in Wild Space? Not much going on there," Dengar said. His tone was innocent enough to make Boba's skin crawl.

“Had a lead. Turned out to be nothing.”

“Uh-huh. You know, when I go to a bar I don't just sit in a dark corner and brood. Heard some pretty interesting stuff before I contacted you."

Boba narrowed his eyes. “What did you hear?"

“That Boba Fett went on a killing spree out in Wild Space, on Deimos to be precise. That he offed a few pirates working for a little upstart by the name of Cubber Rak."

“Never heard of the place.” That wasn’t strictly a lie. He’d forgot the planet’s name the second he left it. Planets like that blurred together in the end.

"Right. Who is going to believe Boba Fett bothered with a bunch of backwater pirates."

"My schedule is full as it is."

Undaunted by his clipped tone, Dengar continued. "Funny thing is that those pirates couldn't get their stories straight. Some of them said it wasn't Boba Fett at all but someone else in Mandalorian armor. Which sounds an awful lot like what happened out on Nevarro."

Boba can feel Dengar watching him. He double-checked their route to Nal Hutta while he waited. He doesn't have to wait for long.

"Then there was a particular version I thought was funny. That Boba Fett was there and that he helped the Mandalorian escape." Dengar snorted. "Honestly, Fett. I'm hurt you don't trust me enough to tell me that you made a friend."

Boba rolled his eyes. “Trust gets you killed.”

"I’ll give you that it’s not something you find in an overabundance with people like us. I mean, I did try to strangle you before I saved your life."

"Which you only did because I offered you mutual beneficial deal."

"A partnership, call it what it is." Dengar glared at Boba. "Are you making a face at me right now?"

"I would never," Boba said.

"Hm, alright. Sure, the promise of extra credits was a nice bonus. But I saved you because Manaroo said we should. I trust her."

“Only because you two share a brain.”

“That’s not how the Attanni device works. It only connects our brain tech and lets her share her emotions with me. Helps me feel a little like my old self."

“How do you know she isn’t using it to make you trust her?"

Dengar stared at him. For some inexplicable reason he looked sad. "You know, Fett," he said. "I'm pretty sure Manaroo could've done a lot better than me. Can't throw a stick in this galaxy without hitting an old imperial cyborg."

“There’s no accounting for taste."

“Ah, there it is." Dengar suddenly grinned. "That sparkling wit I enjoy.” He stood up from the co-pilot seat and cracked his back. “Don’t get me wrong, can’t get enough of it. But I’m going to take a nap in the hold. Let you brood in here or whatever it is that makes you happy. Wake me up when we get there.”

**

Nal Hutta was humid and the air was heavy with the smell of rotting vegetation. There was at least some steady ground to set the ship down and not all boggy swamps.

Dengar squinted against the sun as they disembarked. “So, we got about six days to set up before Kast shows up for your fake bounty."

“Enough time to prepare. Let's see if Jodo Kast bothered to learn from the best as much he likes to pretend to be the best."

"That's what I like about you, Fett. You're a real bastard." Dengar rubbed his hands together. "Can't wait to see the look on Kast's face. See how he likes it when someone points at blaster at him."

“If he doesn't like it, he should've picked another career.”

Dengar studied Boba for a moment. “You’re chatty today.”

Boba stared back at Dengar before he strode off toward the abandoned Hutt keep. He didn't turn around but heard Dengar groaning as he hurried after him.

**

The Hutt liked their fortified keeps to be as garish as their pleasure palaces. But as always, they had been paranoid enough to pack the place with security measures. Most of it was easy to get up and running to give Kast a warm welcome when he arrived.

Except for the steady stream of commentary from Dengar, the past days hadn't been too bad. The unspoken agreement that Boba ate his meals alone on the ship was one thing he hadn't complained about. Not like he had been complaining about catching those flying leeches. There were plenty of them in the surrounding jungles. Dengar had the bright idea that they would make a nice surprise for Kast if he survived the laser webs in the keep. Since it had been his idea in the first place, Boba felt no need to offer any help. But he did appreciate Dengar's natural talent for petty revenge. So he had stayed nearby to keep an eye on things. It was almost as entertaining as the Mando wrestling with the kinrath.

“You’re a natural at this,” Boba commented from the sidelines. “I think they like you.”

“I hate you," Dengar replied. He got a leathery wing in the face and swore his way through corralling the last one of the creatures.

“Are you talking to me or the leeches?”

Dengar threw him a weird look. It had been happening ever since they met up on Paqualis and made Boba wonder if the man was planning something. Which was why, after making sure the ship was set to alert them if anything got close, he went outside. Dengar threw him another one of those weird looks when Boba came out. He ignored it and took a seat on one of the supply crates and started cleaning his rifle. Of course, Dengar collected himself soon enough and Boba settled in. If he was lucky, all he would have to do was wait until Dengar set himself up by talking 

"I took the liberty of looking up a few things, because of your sudden interest in Wild Space. Reached out to some people I know in the Outer Rim," Dengar started, shoving the last bit of the ration bar into his mouth. "There's a price on Cubber Rak's head."

Boba didn't look up from the rifle. "Didn't mention that before," he said.

"Didn't think it was worth your while." Dengar grinned. "Now, I think it might be. You see, Outer Rim is getting a bit too crowded. Wild Space is starting to look pretty good for setting up new business. Thing is, Cubber Rak already got a good hold on the hyperlane past Deimos. Getting rid of him would open those old shipping lanes for new management. His crew would have to join up or get spaced."

"I don't care why they want him dead."

"'course not. Here's the part you might care about." Dengar fished out a bottle with something foul. "Rak is some washed up imperial officer and with the price on his head, he's been reaching out to his old friends. Getting his hands on some imperial weapons. Word is that he promised them something real valuable." He took a swig from the flask, smacking his lips. "Not sure what it is but it sounds like your friend stepped into a real nest of Bacian blood hornets out in Wild Space."

“I’m nobody’s friend.”

Dengar raised the bottle to his mouth again. "Wow, that sounds depressing even to me," he muttered under his breath before taking another swig. "Look, we're not friends. You don't make friends in our line of work. But we have a lot in common."

Against his will, Boba snapped his helmet in Dengar's direction. He ignored the smirk. "Like what?" he asked, actually curious about what was going through Dengar's head.

"Bounty hunting, almost dying on Tatooine... "

"Not very specific."

"We both hate Solo?"

They fell silent for a moment, contemplating their shared dislike for the smarmy son of a bantha.

"We've had this partnership for a few years now. You better not be making a face at me right now. So I feel confident when I say that you've been acting weird." Dengar made a vague gesture with his hand. "Haven't heard you talk this much since... well, not since, uh." He cleared his throat. "And you've been snippy. Which, if I'm being honest, is a step up from having one-sided conversations with you all the time."

Boba glanced back towards the ship but leaving now would only make Dengar think he was right.

"Don't know what the poor guy did to deserve your special brand of attention. Did he beat you in a fight?"

"We didn't fight," Boba said.

“Ah.” Dengar waggled his eyebrows at him. It was disgusting. “Say no more.”

Boba changed his grip on the rifle in his hands.

“If you want, I could give you some tips." Dengar's grin widened. "I used to be a real charmer back in the day.”

If given the choice, Boba would've thrown himself right back into gaping maw of the sarlacc rather than having this conversation. “If I want to know how to get a drink thrown in my face, I’ll let you know."

“See? Snippy.” He had severely misjudged Dengar. The man didn't have an ounce of common sense because he kept going. "What's his name?"

"Don't know. I didn't ask and he didn't tell." Boba felt the corner of his lips twitch. “Smart of him.”

“Is he pretty then?” Dengar said with a leery grin that Boba wanted to wipe off his face with a couple of blaster bolts. "Or is he like you? Never takes the helmet off except in the ‘fresher? How do you Mandalorians do it? Bang your helmets together?”

“Not a Mandalorian,” Boba gritted out.

“Bet you got him all hot and bothered when you shot him some pirates.”

Dengar flinches as the blaster shot goes right over his head. He looked over his shoulder at the still smoking hole in the tree behind him.

“Thought I saw a mynock,” Boba said as he went back to cleaning the rifle again.

When Dengar looked back at him again, he looked smug.

**

The end results would've been disappointing if it hadn't been exactly what he expected. Kast showed some aptitude for the trade. But any small victory he scores along the way only brings him stumbling towards death.

Once Boba confronts him, the fight is over before it even starts. He shoots Kast down mid-air as the man tried to escape by jetpack. The pack sputters before it dies as Kast scrambles to get back on his feet. It was still salvageable. An easy repair if you’ve picked a jetpack apart and reassembled it countless of times.

But it won’t be Kast doing the repairs. He’s dead as soon as the dart laced with nerve toxin hits him in the neck. Boba rips the helmet off Kast's head with a viciousness he hadn't been aware of until now. The pain in his chest eases somewhat when it’s not his father’s face that stares back at him. That leaves more room for his anger.

He doesn’t deserve it. Kast wears the helmet, Boba’s face, like it weighs nothing at all. He’s not even a clone. He'd known it was an unlikely possibility. With the years that have passed since the wars and the accelerated aging the others had been gifted. Boba had still considered it. At least they had shared the face. Millions of men who could’ve been him if the Kaminoans had chosen another specimen to remain unaltered.

Kast is no one. He’s nothing. _You didn't earn this armor. You didn't earn my reputation_.

As agreed, Boba leaves Kast to a slow death. Along with the promise of salvation both within and completely out of reach.

“One of these vials contains the antidote. If you figure out which and have the power to reach it before your lungs shut down, you may live.” _You won’t, though. You’re not me._

He wants him to know that this is how he will end. That this is the end for someone who tries to steal a legacy he knows nothing about. Who thinks it carries no weight. That it means only victory and no loss. He wants him to know that Jodo Kast is a name that will mean nothing.

There's only fear in Kast's eyes when Boba leaves him to die. He reeks of it. A sniveling fear that doesn't come to close to making him hesitate. It's been a long time since Boba hesitated. Not since Aurra Singh ordered him to execute a man wearing his father’s face. That man had not looked at him with fear, only betrayal. His back had been straight as he looked ahead with the barrel pressed against his head. 

The Mandalorian wouldn't hesitate if it came down to killing him, Boba thinks. That wouldn't be a bad way to die. A fitting end to Jango Fett's legacy.

**

“So end the saga of the man who would be Boba Fett, huh?” Dengar said when Boba returned to the ship. "Nice jetpack you got there."

"Kast won't be needing it anymore,” Boba said without stopping on his way up the ship’s ramp.

"Have you thought about the Cubber Rak bounty?" Dengar asked once they broke free of the Nal Hutta's gravity. "Could be good money and some nice finders keepers. Before the Republic starts looking into the whole imperial weapons deal."

“I’m interested.”

“Yeah, you would be. Now, I know you're gonna hate this but it's a two man job, even for you. Rak's holed up pretty good on Deimos."

Boba had done plenty of jobs in the past that had been labelled as a two man job. It wasn't a problem.

"No, I know how I want to do this," he said. "You stay out of this one. Don't worry, I'll pay your finder's fee and more."

That cut off the beginning of a vehement protest from Dengar but he looked suspicious. "More?"

"I've got another job for you." Boba continued with some reluctance. "And bring Manaroo with you this time."

Dengar narrowed his eyes. "Why? What kind of job is it?"

“One where you'll need her help." Boba paused. "Probably."

"I hate it when you talk like that." Dengar sighed. "Fine. Drop me off and I'll get her. How are you going to get a hold of this not-a-friend of yours?"

Boba kept his eyes locked on the ship's controls.

"Come on, it's not hard to guess. My brain isn't that rusted yet."

“Not yet,” Boba agreed. “I’ll comm him.” He finally glanced at Dengar. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“He gave you his comm? Thought you said he was smart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who left comments and kudos! It means so much to me and a big help when I suddenly start to hate everything I’ve written the second I think it’s ready to post. Next chapter might take a while, I'm going away for a few days next week without access to a computer. But I’m taking my notes with me on my offline holiday and will keep writing this fic and try to wrangle Boba & Din into doing what I want.


	5. The Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe I’ve written 20 000 words about Boba Fett’s midlife crisis. I'm excited to be back in Din’s POV and his inner conflict and general confusion at being dragged into Boba Fett’s midlife crisis.

The warning light for the hyperspace core had been blinking for the past hour. He had tried to disable the alert system but that was malfunctioning as well. The angry red light came back on without fail. Din sighed and unscrewed the bulb.

It didn’t fix anything. They didn't run the immediate risk of dying in the cold vacuum of space. But it wouldn't be long before the ship would need more repairs. Disabling the light at least made Din feel a little better. He stared at the now dead light bulb in his hand.

It had been a close call. The pirates weren’t the best fliers but they had the numbers on their side. The harder Din had fought to get past them, the more aggressive they’d become. Their weapons and defense systems had been a lot better than he’d been expecting too. He sagged down in the pilot chair and turned to the child who sat in his usual spot next to the control panel.

"A detour could be our only option now," Din said as he gave the child the red light bulb.

Now it could at least serve a new purpose; keeping the child occupied. Which in turn would give Din a break from keeping a close watch on the control panel. There were a lot of other interesting lights and buttons within easy reach. Even for someone with short arms if they set their mind to it.

The child clutched the bulb in his small hands, turning it over with awe like Din had handed him a star from the sky. That was always the reaction when he received a gift. No matter how small. Something as minor as Din reaching out to him with an ungloved hand seemed to be a source of endless joy.

“Still, a detour doesn’t change that we’re going in blind,” Din continued. The child babbled back at him. Whether in response to what Din was saying or in excitement at his new toy. “If we could go back, track down that Weequay and find out more about your cube….”

Then Din might be able to help the child find a safe haven. Where the child would have someone who didn’t give him bright red lights. Light bulbs apparently looked incredibly tasty. Which was something Din had never thought to consider.

“No, don’t eat that,” Din forced the hand down and got a low whine in reply. If possible, the child’s eyes were bigger and more imploring than ever. “You can have it, but don’t put it in your mouth.”

The ship’s comm unit picked that moment to light up. Din groaned while the child chirped and pointed at the new lights. It had to be pure desperation that made him answer the call.

“This is not a good time if you’re calling about the favor,” Din said in lieu of a greeting.

“I have a job. You interested?” Boba said.

Din wasn’t sure when he started to think of him as Boba, as if he was someone Din knew from the Covert. Somehow Boba kept making Din forget that he was anything but a true comrade. That he was Boba Fett. Famous for getting what he wanted and then only for himself. Din had yet to figure out what he wanted from them.

“More kinrath?” Din said.

“Different sort of pest control." The hologram of Boba leaned forward and his voice took on a conspiratorial note. "A mutual acquaintance, you could say. Cubber Rak has a price on his head."

Karga kept Din's access open, he knew there had been nothing on the guild networks about Cubber Rak or Wild Space. Whoever wanted Rak out of the way was just as unsavory as he was. The last time Din had accepted a job offer like that, he had found himself thrown into a New Republic prison cell.

“Is it pest control if you make room for another kind of pest?"

"I said it was different sort of pest control. This one pays better." Boba tilted his head. "And you could breathe easier as the new management settles in.”

Din said nothing.

"Those pirates been giving you trouble?" Boba sounded unconcerned but there was an edge to his voice. "They're getting weapons from Imperial holdouts. Cubber Rak got a few friends left from his previous position. Thought that would interest you."

Against his will, Din glanced off to the side. The child’s attention was fully on the hologram. After leaving Nevarro, it had been quiet on that front but Moff Gideon was still out there. He hadn’t seemed like the kind of man who would associate with Wild Space pirates. Especially the kind who would flaunt their power and make themselves very visible. But other bounty hunters liked their gossip. Those pirates had been quick to decide that Din was worth bothering. Pirates who were using old Imperial equipment.

"Would this job offer be another favor I owe you?" Din asked as he looked back at Boba.

He thought of the credits from before. He was not sure if it was meant to be another hold on him or if it was meant as a gift. Din would almost prefer it if it was the first scenario. That he could understand.

Boba leaned back, considering Din’s question before answering. "I’m sure you’ll earn your keep on this.” He sounded as self-assured as when he’d repeatedly mentioned how easy it would’ve been for him to kill Din.

“What’s your plan?” Din said, despite the alarm bells that went off in his head. “We’re not exactly welcome planetside. Or anywhere near Deimos.” He didn’t mention that he’d already tried. Boba seemed to already know this.

“I’ve secured safe passage for us, it'll let us keep a low profile. I’ll send you the coordinates."

**

The coordinates led to a space station, tucked away from prying eyes. Hidden from both the Republic and pirates alike in that it held little interest for any of them. It was home to mostly mechanics and a few entertainment establishments. It seemed to survive only because the services they offered were few and far between out in Wild Space. Not because of the quality of the place.

“What do you think, womp rat? Another bad idea?” Din asked as they waited for the docking clearance.

The child looked at him with his big black eyes and then tried putting the light bulb in his mouth again. It seemed to be the new favorite activity.

“That’s definitely a bad idea.” Din plucked the bulb out of his hands. “Don’t whine, you’ll get it back.”

Because saying no had become that much harder lately. When Din had started to really think about how their time together had a possible ending in sight. If their time was limited, then he wanted to be a good memory at least.

The clearance came through, assigning them a large and private hangar bay on the station. It made sense that someone as recognizable as Boba Fett preferred privacy. Except that this time Din could see that he brought company.

One of them appeared to be the mercenary type. The other, while capable looking, seemed almost out of place in the group. Din would’ve hesitated if not for the fact that they were standing were it was easy to spot them. Their weapons gathered up a good distance from away them in what could only be statement.

Din sighed. He still didn’t like it. “But it might be our best chance.” He nudged the child with a gentle hand, letting him grab onto his fingers. “What do you think? Can we trust them?”

Before the child had mistaken Cara’s actions for hostility. Now it was different. Not once had he appeared distressed near Boba. Not even when he had pointed a blaster at them. For some reason the man got an instant pass from the kid. That had to count for something.

Especially since Boba seemed to find it as confusing as Din did. He wondered if Boba found the concept as distant and strange as he did now. Din couldn't remember a time when had trusted as easily as the child did. To have something like that and able to give it without a second thought.

“I hope you’re right,” he said and the child patted his hand as if to comfort him.

**

Boba greeted Din with a terse: "Mando." He gestured towards the scarred and weathered looking man. "Dengar." And then to the Aruzan woman next to Dengar. "Manaroo."

Manaroo waved, her small smile made the dimples in her blue cheeks show. Dengar meanwhile looked at Din like he wasn’t sure what to make of him. When the child let out a curious babble, Dengar’s eyes widened. Din tightened his hold on the child, despite the protests from the kid.

“What is that?” Dengar said.

Boba looked Din up and down before turning to Dengar. “A Mandalorian,” he said.

Dengar glared at him. “Obviously I’m talking about the baby.” The glare turned into something that was closer to panic. “Is it yours, Fett?”

Din and Boba stared in silence at Dengar who appeared to become more uncomfortable by the second.

"Great," he stage whispered to Manaroo. "They're already finishing each other's sentences."

Manaroo patted Dengar on the shoulder with a fond expression.

“He’s mine,” Din finally said, letting the child gnaw on his gloved hand.

"And he's adorable," Manaroo said. She moved closer, a few steps at a time, her full focus on the child. Din would’ve felt insulted that she didn’t even think to be wary of him if it wasn’t for the delighted expression on her face.

"Hi!" she waved again and made a happy sound when the child waved back. "Yes, hi there! Hi!" she cooed.

Din had the feeling that all of a sudden, he was nothing but a prop. A convenient way of keeping the kid closer to her eye-level. The kid in question was eating it all up. It wasn’t like Din withheld attention but the child began to strain his grip towards Manaroo. With a few whines and grunts thrown in to make his wish clear.

"Oh!" Manaroo cupped her hands in front of her mouth, it did nothing to hide her big smile. "Can I hold him?"

Din gave an awkward nod and Manaroo skipped forward to take the child in her arms. "Who's a little cutie? Yes, it's you! Yes, it is!"

Her immediate comfort with the child almost bothered Din. Though the child kept glancing back towards Din as if to make sure he was still there. Or maybe it was meant to reassure Din.

“Adorable, huh?” Dengar glanced at Boba. “Can’t be yours then, Fett.” He sounded relieved, and gave Boba a heavy pat on the shoulder.

“Don’t touch me,” Boba said, it sounded too resigned to be a threat. “Let’s go over the plan.”

“Not much off a plan,” Dengar huffed. “And you didn’t even ask if you could borrow my ship.”

“Do you mind?” Boba said, his steely voice making it clear that if Dengar had issues, it was of no concern to him.

“Not with what you’re paying me for it,” Dengar replied cheerily.

"We'll take Dengar's ship planetside from here,” Boba continued. “I've got a place and a hangar there that'll keep the pirates from knowing we're back."

"From when you were hunting me?" Din asked.

"It was practical at the time," Boba said. "It's practical now. From there we can find and terminate Cubber Rak."

"It won't be safe for the kid down there." Din glanced towards Manaroo who had started rocking the child in her arms. The child’s eyes grew heavy as she continued to rock him with gentle motions.

"Which is why he'll stay here until we finish the job,” Boba said. “With Dengar and Manaroo."

"No."

Din’s sentiment was echoed by Dengar.

“Why not?” Boba said, without any concern.

“I’m not a nurse droid,” Dengar said.

“No, that would’ve actually been useful,” Boba replied coolly.

“I can’t leave him. He’s under my protection. This is- “

“Yes, this is the way and so on. I know,” Boba interrupted and stepped too close for comfort, his voice lowering. “But I have a suggestion. We kill Rak. We split the credits and pay Dengar. I get whatever we find in the pirates' supplies. You get to do whatever it is you're staying around for." He spoke close to Din’s helmet filters. “If anything happens to the kid, I’ll kill Dengar for you. Free of charge.”

“You realize I’m standing right here?” Dengar piped up and then rolled his eyes when Boba turned the menacing glare of his helmet towards him. “In what galaxy does threatening to kill someone make you more trustworthy? Listen, Mando. You’ll be paying me and Manaroo to keep the kid safe from your cut. Not Boba _Disintegration is my middle name_ Fett. You probably don’t trust me and you definitely shouldn't trust Fett, but her?" Dengar's eyes softened as he looked at Manaroo.

"There's no love lost between me and Empire or what's left of it," Manaroo said.

"See? She isn't going to hand the kid over to those Imperials.”

"Her loss," Boba said. "I heard they pay well."

Manaroo let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Fett, I swear to... " Dengar dragged a hand over his face. "Is he like this with you too?"

Boba suddenly went very still and Din felt a small rush of pleasure. It was unbecoming but for once Boba wasn’t self-assured or smug. As Din had come to recognize as his natural state of being.

"A complete bastard," Dengar continued with glee. "He's left me to die twice now. Did you know that? Out in space and out in the Valley of the Winds on Tatooine."

"The offer to shoot you in the back instead still stands," Boba growled.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep out of this. It's between me and the Mando." Dengar nudged Din and stuck out his hand. "We got a deal?"

The path of the conversation wasn’t completely clear to Din but he had a vague idea of what Dengar had tried to tell him. Din had grown up surrounded by armored people. Learnt to see the uniqueness of his comrades in the Covert to tell them apart. Something others outside the Tribe always had trouble with. They only saw the the armor and not the person within. Yet Din hadn’t been able to see more than the armor, the weapons and those he had killed when he first saw Boba Fett. But there had been glimpses of someone else. Just now there had been another flash of someone alive beneath all of that.

Din took the offered hand.

**

It was the first time in a long time that Din had traveled in anything other than the _Razor Crest_. He kept his back straight and his arms stiff against the armrests of the co-pilot seat.

Fidgeting wasn’t something Din did but there was an overwhelming sense of wrongness in the ship. He knew his own ship inside and out. Every little difference put him off. His restlessness only grew as he could only sit back as Boba steered Dengar's ship towards Deimos. 

That he had left the child behind wasn’t helping. It felt wrong on every level. When he had done so in the past, he had almost lost the child. In the end, he left the cockpit with as much composure as he could muster to retreat to the hold. There he found some semblance of peace in weapons maintenance. It kept his hands busy with what had been deeply ingrained in him since the Mandalorians had found him. It brought his thoughts to some kind of order.

After a while, Boba came down too. He stood in the doorway to the hold, almost looking unsure why he had come down in the first place.

“Deimos is not far off now,” he said.

Din nodded and checked the bolt handle on the rifle.

“Vibroblade.”

Din startled. "What?"

Boba seemed to be looking past Din as he continued. "You said no to a blaster." The helmet turned slightly towards Din. "Vibroblade?"

There it was again. Boba Fett carried violence with him, a part of him like his armor. But he had also held the child with apparent awkwardness tinged with a slight awe. Like he couldn’t believe he could hold something so small without breaking it. The memory made Din annoyed with himself. This was why he had to remind himself that Boba was Boba _Fett_.

“I’m not giving him a vibroblade,” Din said. _Not yet_. Maybe when the whole _put almost anything into his mouth_ -phase was over. 

"Why not? I knew how to handle a vibroblade at that age.”

Din huffed out a breath, dangerously close to a laugh. “You didn’t know how to handle a vibroblade until you were fifty?”

“Fifty?” Boba considered it for a moment. “Spry for his age," he finally said.

“Still not giving him a vibroblade.”

“Suit yourself,” Boba said. “If the kid had one, maybe you wouldn’t be acting like a nervous tooka-mother.” He moved back towards the cockpit. "You're not hiding it as well as you think," he said over his shoulder.

Once alone again, Din reached back for the pouch on his belt where he had hidden the cube. Without a way of opening it when kept from the child, it looked like nothing more than a piece of junk. That had made him decide to bring it with him in the first place. The child had developed a knack for always finding the cube, no matter how well Din thought he had stored it.

Whatever it was Boba wanted from them, it was something that made him keep them alive. For now. Best not to add any unknown factors to their strange partnership. Especially if Boba had begun to to see past his armor just like Din had started to see past his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than the previous chapters. Decided to split it into two to make editing a little easier. Felt like I was rushing through scenes while editing just because of the word count.


	6. Incognito

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which there is no bed at all. Because they’re staying in the bad part of town. Well. The whole town is bad. Anyway, Din gets to sleep on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for their comments again, it really helped me as I edited this chapter. Without you I would probably be editing this chapter for all of eternity.

A passageway connected the landing bay to a watchtower. One of many that overlooked the spaceport and the neighboring mining sites on Deimos. Like the other towers, it appeared abandoned or it could be that its other guests were also keen on not being seen. The only living soul Din saw after they disembarked was the Rodian who manned the bay. But she didn't even look up as they passed her. The only sign that she noticed them was the speed with which she swiped the credit stick Boba dropped on her work bench.

In the watchtower Boba led them to the upper levels and to where he’d previously set up on Deimos. It consisted of a main room and a refresher. Once it could’ve been housing for Imperial officers but now part of the other wall had collapsed. Enough of the structure was still standing to give them a roof over their heads and cover. Anything of value had been cleared out of the room leaving only a sofa that had seen better days. It didn't look as much as a space used for living anymore as it looked like the kind of place where you came to die. Which had already happened at least once, judging by the large and dark stain on the carpeted floor.

Din sidestepped that part of the floor as he made his to the opening in the wall. From here, he got a good view of the spaceport and the cheaper hangars for those who generally stopped over on Deimos. It didn't escape Din that this had been where Boba had begun to close in on him.

Watching the crowds below, Din felt like he was seeing through that stranger's eyes. He had known of Boba Fett, the person who had hunted him down here. Now he still wasn't sure if he knew the man who had decided to help him and the child. But it was here Boba Fett had seen something that now made Din reluctantly trust him for the time being.

"Having second thoughts again?"

Behind him, Boba had set up the supplies they brought with them to Deimos. Apart from their weapons, they only packed rations to last a few days. Din hoped they wouldn't even need that much. Being away from the child was making him uneasy.

“Didn’t you lose your pack?” he said instead of voicing any of those thoughts.

Boba had settled himself on the sofa and removed the jetpack from his back.

“Found a new one,” he said, checking the pack over.

“You found it?” Din crossed his arms. “No previous owner?”

“He won’t be needing it any longer.”

“Sure.” Din didn’t have any trouble believing that.

“He didn’t deserve it,” Boba said, a touch defensive.

There had been a time when Din would’ve thought that Boba didn’t deserve it either. Now, he only shrugs and says: “Good. It’ll be useful to us.”

**

Watching and waiting was nothing new to Din, he had the patience for it. It would've been like any other job he'd taken in the past if not for Boba. When not on the lookout for pirates, Boba would rest or continue tinkering with his jetpack. Din would hear an occasional hum or grunt as he fine-tuned it. To see Boba completely absorbed in something as ordinary as fixing up a jetpack made Din feel a bit odd. Like Boba allowed him to see a part of himself few had seen. It reminded Din of a home. Living in the covert, it had been an almost everyday sight to see that kind equipment maintenance.

On his part, Din had not looked forward to letting his guard down with Boba in the same room. But at their first switch, Boba had pointedly put his rifle down and left it close to Din as he took up the position by the opening in the wall. There were still a number of ways to kill without a rifle but it let Din get fleeting moments of rest. No worse than any other time where he forced himself to stay alert for days at times when hunting down a quarry.

Finally they reached the point where information gathering wouldn't do them any good. Din studied Boba who at had the watch at the moment but Din noticed the slight turn of the helmet in his direction.

“Patrols are regular,” Din finally said. “There’s a pattern.”

The patrols had been easy to spot among the chaotic crowd of the spaceport, if you knew what to watch for. The pirates thought themselves safe on Deimos. That made them stand out among the downtrodden and those trying to scrape by. 

But their movements didn't make much sense. There was no way to pinpoint their main base, where Cubber Rak most likely was hiding, along with their smuggled supplies. In Din's previous encounters with the pirates, they had almost popped out of nowhere. Suddenly swarming Din. If not for Boba, the fight to get off planet would've been challenging.

“They could be using the sewers,” Din suggested with some hesitation.

“I checked, the sewers are too small for that," Boba said, still pretending that he was watching the streets outside.

“Mine tunnels then.”

“Under the spaceport? Could risk collapsing the whole town.”

“It was an Imperial mining operation."

“True.”

That would explain why the tunnels didn’t show up on any official records. There was no need to cause panic before the Empire got what they wanted. Once they got what they wanted, whatever happened on Deimos were no longer their problem. 

“If the mining reached this far, an abandoned underground network would be perfect for them,” Din said.

"Hm. Even if we found an entry point to the tunnels, we'd have no way of navigating them," Boba pointed out.

Din tapped the stock on his rifle. “I could draw them out.”

“Didn’t go so well the last time you did that.”

Din hesitated. “This time, you’ll watch my back from the start.”

Boba stopped pretending he wasn’t giving Din his full attention. “Trust isn't a great trait for bounty hunter to have.”

“You trust Dengar.”

Boba snorted. “I trust that I have something he wants that he’ll only get if I’m alive and if he keeps the kid safe.”

“Then this isn’t any different.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Boba crossed his arms. “Let’s say you draw them out. That could make Cubber Rak crawl out of from wherever he’s hiding. Or he could decide to let his underlings deal with you like last time while he digs himself deeper.”

“What do you suggest?”

“I could go out and see what I find.”

"That would definitely send him running,” Din said dryly.

"Only if I'm wearing this," Boba tapped his helmet.

By his own words, Boba was not a Mandalorian. He was definitely not a part of the Tribe. Despite knowing all of this, Din still had to choke back an undignified yelp as Boba removed his helmet. He still fumbled with the grip on his rifle, almost dropping it to the floor. Boba gave him a funny look.

"What are you doing?" Din hissed, looking at anything but Boba.

"What do you think?" Boba sounded amused. "You can look, if you want to."

He could heard that smirk in his voice again and Din felt his face get warm. If he turned his head, he would not only hear it but see that smirk too. Din didn't particularly want to see it. He'd done away with that kind of childish curiosity to survive. Bounty hunters didn't ask questions. Still, he looked back as Boba removed the rest of his armor, leaving only his jumpsuit and boots on.

Boba kept his hair short but the ends were slightly curled and had in some placed started to grey. Pale lines ran across his face, some almost hidden by swathes of mottled scarring. Those scares continued over his throat until they disappeared under the close-fitted collar. His face felt familiar in a strange way that Din couldn't pinpoint.

“Yours ever come off?” Boba’s eyes gleamed with amusement.

“Of course," Din said. "It's a helmet."

“But?”

“If I take it off outside my clan, I can never wear it again.”

“You’re one of those,” Boba rolled his eyes and Din suspected this wasn’t the first time he done this at something Din had said or done. “My dad told me about your sort.”

“Dengar and Manaroo already seen me without it,” Boba said, he’d started covering up the jumpsuit with rags he grabbed from their supplies. “Not by choice but you don’t survive on your own by following a code.”

He finished up his disguise by pulling a makeshift hood over his face, completing the look of a spacer who had nowhere to go but Deimos. The hood nothing to hide the fact that Boba had been right about having a terrible Sabacc face. That smirk was even worse when you could not only hear it but see it as well. It gave him a very punchable face.

“Is this making you blush?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Din said.

If Boba recognized his own words parroted back at him, he didn't show it.

“I would like to know,” he said, stopping by the door and looking back at Din before he left. He lifted an eyebrow at Din. “Let’s finish this job first.”

The door closed before Din could reply. Heat seared across the back of his neck and he could feel it crawling up to and around his ears.

**

Hours went by as Din waited for Boba's return. The streets outside were quiet and the odd calm was making Din restless. With nothing better to do, he took the cube out of the pouch he’d been keeping it in since they left the space station. Since he left the child behind.

Without the child the cube looked like nothing special to Din. For him it was nothing more than reminder now. This was the longest and furthest he'd been away from the child since last they left Nevarro. Silence had never bothered Din before but now, without the child around, it felt different. A part of him missing. Would it be like this all the time if the cube led them to somewhere the child needed to be but where Din couldn’t stay? The cube felt heavier in his hand than Din remembered it being.

The sound of footsteps from the hallway outside were almost welcome at that point. Din returned the cube to the pouch and grabbed his rifle instead to take up a defensive position by the door as it began to open.

"Good. You're up," Boba said as he walked past Din, he threw a disinterested glance towards the rifle aimed at him. “I know where Cubber Rak is.”

Din lowered his rifle. "Do I want to know how?"

"Didn't take you for squeamish sort. I've seen you kill before." Boba rifled through their supplies and dug out a ration bar. He tore its wrappings off and sat down on the sofa.

"We don't need the attention. Who did you- "

"Relax. I didn't kill anyone. No need. They don't expect anyone to try anything here. Especially a drunk, out of luck-spacer." Boba dug out something from the depths of his cloak and threw it over to Din. “Picked this out of one their pockets while they were distracted.”

It was small metallic case and within in was a neatly folded piece of flimsi. On it someone had drawn careful lines with a few notes jotted down.

Din studied it for a moment, making a note of the closest entrance to the tunnels, before folding it up again. “They actually made a map of the tunnels?”

"One of their new recruits, I guess," Boba said. “Cubber Rak’s got too comfortable here. Seems like he forgot that he decided to pick a fight with a Mandalorian. We’ll have to remind him why that’s a bad idea.”

Perhaps it had been a small mercy for those Boba had hunted down in the past that they'd never had to see that cold smile. Din was grateful for his own helmet in that moment because he’s not sure what Boba would see now if he could see Din’s face.

Boba stretched his arms out on the sofa's backrest. "Are you planning to stand there the whole time?" he said. "Best if we rest up before heading out.”

Din glanced around the bare room. "I'll take the floor," he said. It was fair. He'd done nothing but kept watch while Boba had been out and gotten them closer to finishing the job.

"How honorable, Mando," Boba sneered.

Din crossed the room to take up a spot against wall, close to the window. He could feel Boba’s eyes on him all the while. 

“The kid’s seen you?” he asked and tapped his chin.

"Yes.”

"Clan of two," Boba muttered. "Right."

Without his helmet, the flash of pain was easy to see on Boba’s face. Or maybe this was another thing Boba allowed Din to see. He hasn't had the mudhorn signet on his pauldron for long but ever since he's earned it, his world had shifted. Whatever his life had been before, Din can't remember how he lived it without the one who helped him earn his signet. They were a clan of two. That was one thing Din knew would always be true. If he wouldn't be the one to care for the child in the end, then knowing that he would remember seeing Din would be enough. That someone would remember his face. Who now cared to remember Boba’s face for reasons other than to hurt him? 

"Aren't you the very picture of a true Mandalorian," Boba said. He didn't make it sound like a compliment. "Bet you named the kid something real impressive and inspiring."

"No."

"No, the name isn't inspiring or impressive?" Boba frowned. "Or no, you haven't given him a name at all?”

He didn’t know what he was asking about. The child was Din's to protect, yes, but to give him a name was an entirely different thing. Boba finished his meal in silence and then he took one long good look at Din before humming thoughtfully.

"I like Jango," he said.

"What?" The strange suddenness of the statement made Din give up the game of ignoring Boba.

“As a name," Boba clarified.

Din stared back at him. “I’m not naming the kid Jango.”

If it got back to the Tribe that he was working with Boba Fett, no matter the reason, Din would hear no end of it. If the kid ended up with the name Jango, that would be as good as signing his own death warrant if the Armorer found out.

"What's wrong with Jango?" Boba shot back.

"Nothing.” Din paused, considering his next words. “As a name.”

"It's a good name," Boba sounded pleased by the small concession. Then he narrowed his eyes. "You're not a Vizla, are you?"

"No." He draws a deep breath, fighting off the smile even though Boba has no way of seeing it. If Paz had heard Boba Fett ask him that, he would've had a fit that would've been a sight to behold. "I'm not."

It’s only then Din realizes he didn’t think twice about allowing Boba to know that. A small sliver of who he was that didn’t bring Boba any closer to his name but a piece of who Din Djarin was nonetheless.

Din can’t tell if Boba had come to the same realization. He only catches the small but pleased curving of his mouth before Boba ducks his head down. They fall silent again as Boba busied himself with armoring up again. Din watched him put on each piece with meticulous care, the familiar motions felt calming. When the only piece left was his helmet, Boba suddenly stopped. He held it in his hands, turning it over as if he was seeing the dents and scratches on it for the first time.

"This isn't his helmet," Boba said.

Din didn't have to ask to know who Boba meant.

“What happened to it?”

"Set a trap with it.” Boba looked into the dark visor, like he could see someone else looking back from out of the empty helmet. “Didn’t get the revenge I was looking for but lost the helmet.”

That helmet was the face of approaching death throughout the galaxy. To them the helmet meant something unrelenting and cold. To Din, it reminded him of those who had given him a home. Something familiar, a refuge. In comparison to that, Boba's face was a constant storm that Din had trouble keeping up with.

"There's a lot in a name," Boba said, his voice hard. "Maybe you're doing the kid a favor."

Din suspected it was more of a favor to himself but there's so much in that. Too much he can't trust Boba with even if he's prepared to let the man watch his back. Despite Boba having trusted him with something Din never expected.

“Why did you let me see you?”

“It doesn’t mean the same to me.” Boba was still looking down at the helmet in his hands. “This is my real face.”

Din got up from the floor, making his movements slow and deliberate, as Boba shoots him a tense look. It wasn't too different from trying to get closer to the skittish blurrg. Apprehension that could turn to aggression in a heartbeat.

“It means something," Din insisted. This close to Boba, Din couldn't miss the lost look in those dark eyes. If it couldn't mean anything to Boba, he wanted him to know it still meant something to Din.

The thought almost makes Din miss the hand that reached for his own helmet. He grabbed Boba firmly around the wrist. Din could feel the warmth from his hand against his throat.

Boba’s mouth twisted. "Not even a peek?" he said but no made attempt to break Din’s grip or move his hand away.

Din clenched his jaw. “This is different.”

Boba’s smile is sharp and with teeth. "Wouldn't be the first time I got someone to see it my way."

Boba tugged gently with his captured hand and Din allowed him to pull his hand away. As he does, Boba's sharp grin turned into a crooked smile, like he'd won something. Din wasn't sure of what exactly and then he saw what Boba was now holding in his hand.

"What's this?" Boba said as he turned the cube over. It seemed to be more for Din's benefit than any curiosity of his own. Boba doesn't even glance at the object in his hand. Instead his eyes are locked on Din.

"You picked my pockets." Din tries and fails to keep the indignation out of his voice.

“You got distracted,” Boba said as if that absolved him of any guilt. He held the cube up in front of Din’s visor.

It’s within easy reach but Din won’t give him the satisfaction of trying to take it back.

“Do you know what this is?” Boba asked.

“Found it." Din echoes Boba's words again.

Boba pressed his lips together, lines forming between his brows. “You should get rid of it,” he said.

Din tilted his head. “You know what it is.”

“I’ve seen one or two before. It's nothing good,” Boba said, he finally looks at the cube in his hand. “They belonged to people you don’t want anything to do with. I’ve killed enough of them to know that.”

Din felt a rushing noise in his ears. He’d forgotten again who he was talking to do. Careless, undisciplined, he’d been all of that and more when he should’ve been better because it wasn’t just his life on the line anymore. He’d been distracted and now Boba Fett was getting to close to knowing. He had to end it now. All he needs is the vibroblade hidden in his vambrace and mere seconds. Boba would choke on his own blood before he could strike back. Even if he manages to take Din with him, it doesn’t matter. All that mattered was the child would be safe. Din knows what he has to do and because it’s not Boba who has to die, it’s Boba Fett. 

Before he can move, Din felt a small object pressed against the palm of his hand. He could barely feel it through the glove but it still felt like a lifeline. His hand automatically closed around it. Din stared down at the cube, now returned to him, while Boba put his helmet back on.

“What are you planning to do with a holocron?” Boba said.

Din studied the cube before hiding it away again. A holocron. Now he had a name for it but it didn’t tell him much.

“Tell me what it is.”

“They stored information in them," Boba said, his voice once again filtered through the helmet. "Found a few when I tracked down their kind for the Empire. Never got to keep one. Not that it would’ve done me any good. You can’t open them unless you’re one of them.”

"I know.”

"But the kid can?"

Din hesitated and that seemed to be enough of an answer for Boba. 

"Whatever it showed you- “

"It's a map." Din's voice is hoarse. He’s not sure why he’s telling Boba this. Something was changing and he was still waiting to see what it would become. “I don’t where it leads.”

“It could be nothing by now," Boba scoffed. “It looks old.”

“If it can help him, I have to try.”

"He’s better off with you."

Boba sounded so sure of it and for that Din is grateful even if can't begin to tell Boba why. He would be the child’s father, offer his protection for as long as it was needed. Or until he found the child's people. That was what he'd been given and even if it came to an end, it would be the greatest gift Din would ever receive. To think anything else felt selfish. That didn't stop Din from wanting it to be true.

“He’s still with me thanks to you,” Din said.

Boba gave a tight nod in reply. Din only hesitates for a moment before reaching out. It was only a brief touch against his pauldron but Boba startles nonetheless.

Din glanced down at the slender vibroblade in Boba’s glove. “Really?”

Boba awkwardly tucked the blade back. Din sighed and gave the same pauldron another tentative pat. Boba glanced to the side, as if to check that Din hadn’t left any mark on him.

**

The entry point they decided on was not very well guarded. There had in fact been only one guard who Din dealt with a non-lethal result.

“Squeamish,” Boba muttered as they descended into the underground.

Din rolled his eyes.

After the guard by the entrance, the only resistance are a couple of mining and excavation droids. If not for his previous encounters, the military grade weapons would've surprised Din. But in the hands of retro-fitted droids, not even Imperial contraband proves to be much of a challenge. The tunnels themselves are not difficult to traverse with help of the stolen notes. The amount of mining equipment and droids that had been left behind was a little strange though. Nothing appeared to be too damaged, it looked like the Empire’s representatives had left in a hurry.

It doesn't take long before they reached their goal, right under the center of the spaceport. Din signaled Boba to stay put while Din made his way forward to get a better look. The tunnel narrowed until he had to hunch forward to not his head. At the end of it, he could see a light.

The light wasn't very strong, making it easy for Din to stay hidden by the tunnel's end. It illuminated enough to let Din see where they were. From where the tunnel ended, a precarious ledge led over to a large outcropping within a big, carved out area. Din couldn't tell how big of a drop the underground chasm was. The light source itself was by a sturdy looking blast door further inside the cavern. A good defense position, which would explain the lackluster opposition so far.

"Two guards," Din said over the short-range comlink Boba had handed him before they headed into the tunnels.

He said guards but they didn't appear all that engaged in actually keeping watch as they were in arguing with each other. One of them kept gesturing towards the door with an annoyed expression. The other one meanwhile seemed to be trying to explain something. He looked human but most of his face was hidden under a pair of googles and a scarf over the lower half of his face. Din still noted that he appeared completely unbothered by his compatriots increased agitation.

"Looks like we're in time for changing of the guards," Boba said.

They moved up, taking cover behind jagged boulders that hadn’t been cleared away by the miners or the pirates. It brought them closer to the door and the guards, but they were still too far away for Din to pick out most of their words. From what he could pick up, it almost sounded like the human was trying to argue his way out of taking a break. He was about to turn to Boba when the nonchalant pirate suddenly threw his hands up in apparent exasperation.

Din blinked as watched the pirate knock the other one out. Before he did anything, a loud roar echoed throughout the cavern.

The pirate still standing drew his blaster and whipped around wildly.

"Boba Fett?" the pirate shouted, aiming his blaster this and that way. "Where?"

Din felt Boba freeze up next to him.

“Not again… “

That was all he got to say before he was ripped the Din's side and disappeared over the edge, into the darkness below. Din looked up at the very upset looking Wookie, who had picked up and thrown Boba into the abyss like he weighed nothing at all. The Wookie towered over him and let out a throaty gurgle.

"I have to warn you," Din said, reaching for his blaster. "My Shyriiwook is rusty."


	7. Armistice

It was funny how time worked when you had the sharp end of a bowcaster pointed in your direction. Din could almost feel the hum in his bones from the plasma around the quarrel. Every second seemed to dilate into an eternity.

“I can’t see a damn thing in this!” the pirate complained as he hurried over to join up with the Wookie, ripping the googles off his head as he did. “Hang on, that’s not Boba Fett. This one is shinier.”

The Wookie rolled his eyes and let out a throaty gurgle Din struggled to interpret. The last time he had to translate Shyriiwook on the go, the phrases had mostly been ‘They went that way’ and ‘I’ll rip your arms off’. Whatever the Wookie had said, it didn’t sound like it contained the words ‘rip’, ‘arm’ or even ‘shoot’. A small comfort.

“What do you mean you threw him off a cliff?” the pirate blurted out and whirled around to stare down into the dark abyss.

Although Din was starting to have serious doubts that they were part of Cubber Rak's pirates. His quiet reflections didn't get any further as the tell-tale whoosh from a jetpack igniting echoed throughout the cave.

The human pirate, possibly not a pirate, dove away from the edge of the cliff as Boba rushed past in a straight line up. Right before hitting the cavern ceiling, he changed the trajectory. At the last possible moment, he shut the pack off. The momentum and gravity did the rest as Boba barreled into the Wookie. The force of the collision sent the Wookie flying along with Boba.

Din didn't stop to see where they ended up. As soon as the bowcaster was no longer in his face, he scrambled to his feet. Only to get a fist right in the visor. The force of the blow knocked his head back but didn’t do more than stun him for a second. Mostly because Din hadn’t expected the stranger to pull that move with bare fists.

“Okay, not my best idea,” the man muttered as he shook his hand out with grimace.

Then, in what felt like the blink of an eye, his hand was by his hip and he fired. The blaster bolt forced Din to take a few steps back thanks to the beskar.

“Aw, come on! That’s not fair,” the man whined.

Din aimed his blaster at the man. He wanted to turn and see what happened to Boba but with a shot like that, the man in front of him was more dangerous than he appeared. Judging by the roars and grunts coming from somewhere behind him, it sounded like Boba was still alive.

“Who’re you?” Din demanded.

“Didn’t your buddy tell you that?”

The man looked more curious than worried, though Din caught the way his gaze flickered toward the ongoing fight behind Din.

“He didn’t,” Din said.

“I’m hurt. The name’s Han Solo.”

He smiled brightly at Din, like they were old friends meeting up at their local cantina. It was belied by the steeliness in his eyes.

“Wait, he really didn’t say anything about me?" The smile faded a little. "Now I’m actually hurt.” He cupped a hand around his mouth. “I thought we had something, Fett!” he called out.

Great, they knew each other. That couldn’t be good. Boba didn’t exactly have a winning personality.

As if to prove it, Boba responded from somewhere behind Din: “Go to- ”

The insult was cut short but the spirit of it was loud and clear. By the sound of it, the Wookie had interrupted the expletive by driving one of his paws right into Boba’s gut.

Solo gave a half shrug. “We’ve got history.”

“Clearly,” Din said.

“That’s Chewbacca by the way.” Solo scratched his chin. “Now, who’re you? Didn’t think Fett was the kind to bring a friend to a party. Cubber Rak isn’t that big of a prize.”

More dangerous than he appeared and not as dumb either, Din noted.

“You’re after him too."

“We need him alive,” Solo said with the smile still firmly in place but there was a calculating look in his eyes now. “How about you?”

“We need him dead,” Boba wheezed.

Din risked a glance over his shoulder. Chewbacca had managed to get Boba in a headlock. It looked like he was doing his best to pop Boba’s head clean off his shoulders. Not impossible when there was a Wookie involved. Boba struggled against Chewbacca’s grip, trying to reach one of his many hidden weapons. His blaster rifle laid useless a few paces away.

Din turned his attention back to Solo.

“Let’s talk,” Solo said, using the same tone as someone trying to sell a ship without a hyperdrive.

Din jerked his head in the general direction of the ongoing brawl. 

“Let him go first," he said.

“I don’t think so, pal." Solo paused, and then added: "You know that's Boba Fett, right?”

“I’m prepared to talk,” Din said, drawing Solo’s attention to the blaster still aimed at him. “And he’s with me.”

“Shoot him!”

Despite Boba’s slightly garbled input, Din holstered his blaster. Solo’s eyebrows almost met his hairline. There was a low but surprised grumble behind Din, followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground.

"You should've shot him," Boba grumbled over the comm.

If he was a bit unsteady in his steps after the short but intense fight, he didn't show it.

“First of all,” Solo pointed at Boba. “I don’t like you.”

Chewbacca roared in agreement.

“Likewise, but we’re not after the bounty on your head," Boba said. "This time."

Solo narrowed his eyes at Boba.

“Why do you assume there’s a bounty on me?”

“There’s always a price on your head,” Boba sneered. “You annoy people.”

“You would know about that. How many times have you failed to collect that bounty by now?” Solo smirked. “Oh right, you managed it once. Did you have a nice stay in the Sarlacc? I heard it’s lovely that time of the year.”

“Never did get a chance to thank you for that,” Boba snarled.

“Hey! You can’t blame me for that!” Solo tapped his own chest repeatedly. “No one forced you to hang around after you so kindly delivered me to Jabba.”

“You pushed me into the Sarlacc.”

“I was blind!” Solo sputtered. “You know, because of the carbonite you put me in.”

Boba shrugged. “Not personally.”

“Obviously you got out of the Sarlacc anyhow. I’d say we’re even now.”

“We’ll be even when you’re dead.”

“I’m shaking! You’ve got a great track record for letting me slip through your fingers.”

Din’s skills in Shyriiwook weren’t great but no words were needed. He understood the silent look Chewbacca sent his way perfectly.

“Why are you after Rak?” Din asked, holding his hand up to get the attention.

Chewbacca answered in a drawn out bellow.

“Don’t tell them that!” Solo shot his companion an annoyed look. “Whose side are you on, fuzzball?”

“The Republic sent them," Boba translated, his voice tight.

“Yeah, okay.” Solo sighed. “Not like you didn’t know that already. Rak’s antsy because of all the attention he’s getting. To top it all off, he hasn’t been able to pay his Imperial friends back for all the toys they gave him.”

“So he’s ready to tell the Republic all about his old friends now,” Boba said.

“In exchange for the Republic keeping him safe and off everyone’s radar,” Solo said. “Your turn. Why are you after him?”

“People are looking to move their business to this sector. Rak’s in the way and they need him dead.”

There was no reason for Boba to tell them anything else. Not about what exactly Cubber Rak had intended to use as payment. Still, Din could feel some of the tension leave his body.

“He’d be as good as dead in a Republic prison cell,” Din said slowly. “Everyone will assume he’s dead if Boba Fett was there before he disappeared.”

Boba crossed his arms, his head inclined slightly in Din’s direction. Din chose to ignore his obvious discontent.

“If Rak contacted the Republic to be extracted, then you know how to get in and out of their base,” Din said to Solo.

“We know enough,” Solo said vaguely. “If we’re doing this, then you follow our lead. I don’t want Fett slaughtering half the people inside.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” Boba remarked. “I’m good at what I do.”

“What does that mean? You planning to murder all of them?”

“If I have to,” Boba growled.

Din put a steady hand on Boba’s shoulder as he nodded towards Chewbacca. He seemed to be the reasonable one out the two of them.

“We’ll follow your lead,” Din said. “Get the door open and we can get this over with.”

Chewbacca seemed to be onboard with it already and headed over to the door leading into the pirates' nest. Solo trailed after him, casting suspicion glances Boba’s way, which incidentally was Din’s way too. He hadn’t moved away from Boba’s side or removed his hand.

“I don’t like this,” Boba said, angling his body so he was facing Din.

“I know.”

“I don’t like them.”

“I gathered that.”

Boba glanced down at Din’s hand, it seemed to make him a little unsure. Din kept it right where it was.

“Rak can live or die. I don’t care,” Boba said, his voice low. “But we don’t know how much Rak knows about the kid.”

“We’ll find out and deal with it.”

“Then we’ll still have a fight on our hands.”

“I’ll handle it.”

“Good,” Boba said and leaned in close. “The Republic can’t know about him. They’ll try to take him from you if they know what he can do.” His voice came in an urgent whisper. “Everyone will try to take him from you if they know.”

Din tilted his head.

“Except you," he said.

“Of course not,” Boba replied and once again Din could hear the smirk in his voice. “I hate kids.”

Trust was a rare commodity, one Din wasn’t sure he could afford with Boba. He thought Boba was of the same mind but at every step, he did something that left Din reeling. Like now, it was almost dizzying how easily Boba accepted Din's decisions.

“Hey!” Solo suddenly shouted. “Enough scheming, you two, get over here!”

Din felt Boba tense under his hand and he gave the shoulder firm pat before walking over to the other two by the door. Boba was behind him like a shadow.

“We’ve got the door open.” Solo rubbed his hands together. “This will be easy.”

Chewbacca buried his face in his hands and let out what Din could only guess was a deep groan of regret at the word choice.

**

Bounty hunting was not for those with a delicate constitution. Boba was suited for that kind of life. That didn't mean that he didn't dislike parts of it. The Wookie bodily throwing him off a cliff had been a low point. Mercifully, that hadn't involved any large and sharp teeth or tentacles.

That he now had to experience falling down for a second the time the same day was not making him feel any better about it. Especially since it overall was the third time in his life it had happened due to Han Solo. It was becoming an annoying trend. His life had already met its quota for Solo related disasters a long time ago.

This time the fall came to an abrupt end with Boba hitting solid ground. He felt a little bruised but no broken bones and no writhing tentacles as far as he could see. Which was not far since it was pitch black. He could hear a groan from somewhere on his left side because of course Solo had survived the fall too. Life was full of disappointments.

“Why would anyone have a trapdoor in their quarters?” Solo said.

Boba could hear rustling coming from his direction and then there was a bright light from a glowrod. It looked like one of the old Imperial models. Solo held the light above his head, illuminating the hatch in the ceiling. It had now closed up again, sealing them off from the chute through which they both had fallen down.

“Oh right,” Solo muttered. “Imperial mine. Imperial officers. Of course they would have some sort of deathtrap in the old officers’ quarters. Why is it always like this? _Oh, Han, it’s an easy job. It’s for the good of the Republic. I trust you._ " He sighed. "Then I always end up running for my life or stuck in a garbage compactor.”

Boba ignored the monologue and activated the light on his helmet to take a look around.

“I don’t think we’re in a garbage compactor,” Boba said.

Solo swept the light over the ground and took a startled step back. Beneath his boot, the remains of a skull missing its jawbone turned to dust.

It had been going well up to that point. Navigating the base and avoiding guard patrols had been easy with the added help. Although Boba was loathe to admit that. Rak had sent the Republic enough information to expedite his own rescue, from a mess of his own creation. Just enough but not everything.

It didn't come as surprise to Boba that a former Imperial didn't put his full trust in the Republic. A man like that, who cultivated enemies on all sides, had to have a healthy dose of paranoia.

The Mando noticed it first.

"The cameras," he said and paused in his step. "They're still working."

Solo let out a harsh breath. "They're not supposed to," he said, glancing towards Chewbacca. "Do you think he's seen us with uh... you know?"

“You brought Fett here to kill me!"

"Yeah, I think he noticed," Solo muttered.

Rak's eyes were wide and bloodshot, his breathing heavy. He looked like he sprinted into action, hunting them down himself before they could reach him, the moment he made his discovery. That he hadn't brought any backup with him said a lot about how well he was handling it.

“I knew you would try to kill me, rebel scum!" Rak went on, tearing at his greasy hair. It had grown long and bushy which made it match the state of his beard and mustache.

Either he was more far gone than his appearance suggested or Rak had trouble breaking old habits. In Boba's experience, all Imperials had been fond of snarling 'scum' with their lip curled in disgust. ‘Rebel scum’ this and ‘we don’t need their scum’ that. They all sounded the same after a while.

Solo held up his palms and put on the smile that always made Boba want to punch him in the face.

“Calm down,” Solo said. “He’s got nothing to do with our deal. He’s here to make sure people think you’re dead when we leave. No one’s going to think about trying to find you after Fett shows his ugly face… ” he glanced over at Boba. "... ugly helmet."

“I know what you did!” Rak raised a shaking hand to point at Boba. “You’re not going to get me too!”

With that said, Rak turned on his heel and bolted in the opposite direction. They always tried to run.

"Looks like he's heading towards his quarters," Solo said.

He didn't sound convinced. If Rak hadn’t told him about the security system in the base, there could be more intentional errors slipped into the intel. Still it was the only thing they had to go on.

“Chewie, you hang back with the Mando," Solo barked out. "If anyone shows up, buy us some time to calm him down.”

He turned towards Boba, his brows snapping together. "Come on, Fett. You’re with me.” 

“Giving orders now?” Boba crossed his arms. “I don’t think Rak is going to be happy to see me again.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Solo said with determination.

Boba was about to argue with that when the Mando stepped forward. He gave Boba a gentle push in the direction Rak had bolted.

“We’ll handle things here,” the Mando said.

“If the Wookie tries anything, go for the eyes first,” Boba told him, ignoring the growl from Chewbacca.

“I’ll be fine,” the Mando replied.

Boba gave him a nod and then turned to follow Solo down the corridor.

The base was larger and more complex than Boba had expected. To dig right under the town had seemed like the Empire bleeding the planet dry before leaving Deimos to die. Boba wasn't sure that was the case. The Empire had put a lot of time and effort into this underground base.

No wonder Rak had hid down here and played at being a pirate captain. A perfect way to relive what Rak believed to be his glory days. He'd made himself right at home in the old officer's quarter.

Solo gestured for him to remain outside in the corridor while he waltzed inside. Boba heard him greet Rak with a cheerful: "I think we got off on the wrong foot."

When the yelling started, with a few blaster shots thrown in, Boba considered letting the entire thing play out without interference. There were two possibilities. Either Rak or Solo could end up dead. Boba had no problem with those options. If only he hadn't agreed to go along with whatever the Mando was thinking.

“Put the blaster down,” Boba said as he stepped inside, making his point clear with a friendly warning shot.

“I had it under control!” Solo fumed from behind an overturned table.

“Sure.”

Rak had dropped his blaster in surprise and had now backed up in a corner of the room. He’d dragged the desk with him as barrier between them. Rak looked like he was hoping to discover some unknown power within that would allow him to phase through the wall.

“Don’t come any closer!” he yelled. “You’re not going to get me too!”

“What the hell did you do to this guy, Fett?” Solo said, dusting himself off as he got up from behind the table and walked over to Boba.

“Nothing,” Boba replied. "I've never heard of him before."

“You killed my sister!” Rak was practically frothing at the mouth by now. “She deserted from the Empire and that bastard killed her!”

“That doesn’t tell me anything,” Boba said. “Could you narrow it down?”

In hindsight, that had been the wrong thing to say. Rak let out a wordless scream and slammed his hand down on the control panel on the desk.

The floor disappeared beneath Boba and Solo.

The space was too cramped for a jetpack, instead Boba fired off a line from his whipcord launcher. He didn't have time to pick a target but he got something. The fibercord went taut and Boba slammed into the wall of the cramped chute the trapdoor had opened up to. He grunted with the sudden pull on his arm, threatening to rip the launcher right off, when Solo grabbed onto his foot.

Boba couldn't see the look on Solo's face when he raised his other foot to kick the man off him. Not that it mattered when everything went pitch black as the hatch in the floor closed above them. The line snapped and sent them both tumbling down.

And here they were. Someplace that was definitely not a garbage compactor. If it was, then it was... well, garbage. The heaps of bones that littered the grimy floor looked like they had been there for a long time. Judging by the state of the bones, the people and creatures that had been sent down here before them had clearly not starved to death. They'd been ripped apart. Likely by the same creature that had gouged the walls and floor with deep claw marks. 

All in all, Boba was not a fan of the décor.

The upside was that as far as Boba could tell, he was still alive. Whatever had lived down had either starved to death when the Empire left or they had taken it with them.

“Any bright ideas about getting out here?” Solo said, looking around the room.

With the exception of the hatch in the ceiling, the room appeared to have been carved out of the rock itself. The hatch didn't look like it could be opened from this end, not without a thermal or two. Something that could cause a collapse and get both of them buried alive.

“A few," Boba said.

Solo's eyes went round as he turned and saw the blaster aimed squarely between his eyes.

“I won’t need you alive for any of them,” Boba said.

He felt a little insulted when Solo laughed in his face.

“You need me,” Solo said. “Even if you get out of here on your own, I still know more about this place than you do.”

“I’m willing to risk it.”

“What about your friend?” Solo looked unflinchingly smug. “Who knows what he and Chewie are up against? You’re going to risk being too late because you’re a little trigger-happy?”

The Mando could handle himself in a fight. Though he'd caught a bad case of conscience. It went great with his sense of honor that seemed to be chronic. Nothing that necessarily made the Mando any less ruthless or capable. Boba had seen that first-hand. He also seen how the Mando made things complicated. His current situation was more than enough proof of that.

“Make yourself useful,” Boba said and lowered the blaster.

Solo gave him a chipper thumbs up.

**

It was Solo who found their way out; a hidden door panel in the wall.

“Seen this before with hidden smugglers' caches and it's like the old saying goes... " Solo smirked. "Never build a prison you can't get out of."

The door didn't require a code or a key of any kind. Boba wondered if the being in Solo's proximity changed the fabric of reality to make the world around him suit Solo's continuous dumb luck. Or it could be that whoever built the deathtrap never expected anyone to have time to look for a way out.

The door had been designed to blend in seamlessly with the rocky wall. It opened by pulling back, before it slid into the side of the wall with a grating sound. A gust of air burst into the room the moment the door opened, making the bone heaps rattle around them.

"Ugh, ominous," Han muttered. "I hate that. Is it just me or do you have a bad fee- " he stopped talking and shook his head. "Nope. Not doing that."

Boba did the only thing he could do to avoid hearing more idiotic prattling and walked past Solo, into the dark passageway. It didn't look like the mine tunnels, it hadn't been the Empire or their mining droids who had carved out this part of the underground complex. It seemed much older. The air was heavy and felt stale even as it passed through the filter in Boba’s helmet. Their light sources made the shadows shift across the walls. The tunnel was big enough for something much larger than two humans to pass through. Boba decided to not think about that until he absolutely had to.

**

Solo continued to make himself annoyingly useful by navigating the uncharted tunnels.

“How do you know it’s this way?” Boba asked when Solo directed him to take left when the tunnel split into two ways.

“Got the base plan Rak sent us memorized. Most of it anyway. The important parts. All I have to do is track our movement, adjust a little for the level difference. If I got my numbers right, we’ll get back to the base in no time. Or you know, going in the right direction at least.”

Boba frowned and glanced toward the tunnel on the right. “If you got your numbers right.”

“I know how to count,” Solo snapped.

“That’s not what the spice merchant on Kessel told me.”

“I paid that guy what I owed,” Solo rolled his eyes. “Not my fault he got a bad memory from using his own supplies.”

They went left. Using Solo’s knowledge of the base layout was the safest bet and with him busy navigating the tunnels, it granted Boba the small mercy of a quiet Han Solo. Of course, that was too good to last the entire way.

“So… who’s the Mandalorian?”

Boba allowed himself to bare his teeth, hidden beneath his helmet.

“Didn’t think you’d need help with someone like Cubber Rak," Solo continued sharing his unwanted opinions. “Getting too old for the job, huh?”

There was no room for vanity as a bounty hunter but it was as if Solo's voice hit some unknown frequency that made Boba see red.

“We’re the same age,” Boba snarled.

“Yeah and I could definitely use a vacation at this point,” Solo muttered.

“From the looks of it, you’ve had enough downtime as a royal pet already.”

“Hey, are you saying I’m getting fat?”

“No, I’m not a child.”

The HUD of his helmet allowed him a wider range of vision but at that moment Boba wished it didn’t. Because of it, he got a good view of the growing smirk on Solo’s face.

“Oh, I see. You’re trying to distract me.”

Solo’s smirk had reached full power by now. How he was still alive with a face like that was beyond Boba.

“I did wonder why you were so easily convinced before. Of all people, I never thought it would happen to you,” Solo said.

Boba’s dad had trained him well for the time they’d been given. Unfortunately, Jango had never foreseen the existence of someone like Han Solo. Someone who always cheated death and then had the gall to not keep his mouth shut.

“I know what it’s like. You’ve got it all figured out,” Solo went on. “Then some bright eyed lunatics show up with big ideas and it all falls apart.”

For a moment his smirk turned into a distracted smile before it returned in full force.

“You make a cute couple.”

“You’re making all those bounties on your head more interesting by the second,” Boba growled.

Solo gave him a dismissive wave with his hand but he didn't say anything more. Boba slowly unclenched his fists.

“I like the matching outfits.”

If Boba killed him now, no one would have to know. No one except Boba. He would know and he would treasure seeing the light go out in Solo’s eyes.

“Hey, look!” Solo pointed up ahead. “Think we’re finally getting out of here.”

Boba stopped reaching for his rifle. Later then.

“This should take us up to an old storage area,” Solo said, patting the ladder the tunnel had led them to. "Should lead to one of their storerooms."

"If you got your numbers right."

"Shut up." Solo grabbed onto a step on the ladder. “I’ll go first.”

Boba gestured a ‘go ahead’ and waited for the other to get further up before following. With any luck, Solo would be greeted with bolt to the face the second he stuck his head out on the other side of the hatch at the end of the ladder.

The hatch took some convincing before it opened and Solo crawled out. Boba heard a surprised shout from above but regrettably no immediate blaster fire. He grabbed his rifle and heaved himself up. The storeroom didn't contain much. A few old crates, spare parts, power cells and a familiar face, other than Solo's

“Hello,” Boba said.

The pirate whimpered and dropped the blaster she'd been aiming at Solo. She'd gotten smarter than the last time Boba had seen her.

“Oh Stars, not you… “

“Yes. Me.”

Solo looked between them with confusion. He had his hands up and what Boba supposed was what he thought was disarming smile on his face.

“You know each other?” The smile slipped off Solo’s face. “Why is she making that sound?”

“We’ve met before,” Boba said.

Solo shot him a dirty look. “That explains it.”

“Please, don’t kill me!” the pirate said in a brittle voice. “I’ll tell you anything.”

“I’m not here for you,” Boba said.

“You’re not?”

Despite everything, the pirate sounded disappointed to hear that she hadn't earned the attention of Boba Fett since they last met. If she wanted that, she'd have to do more than go from posturing and boasting about not being afraid of him to running away from him in record time. The trembling wreck she now presented didn't convince him that she was cut out to be a pirate at all.

“But you will tell us everything,” Boba said. “Any guards outside this room?”

Her eyes flickered nervously between the two of them but Solo didn’t offer any comfort.

“I’d tell him the truth if I were you, he’s been itching to shoot me the whole day now. As you can see, he hasn’t had any luck with that," Solo said.

“Don’t need luck,” Boba muttered.

“I’d bet he’s in need of an outlet by now,” Solo said with a smirk. "So talk."

"Rak has the entire crew looking for you," the pirate started. "There's... there's a patrol outside. They sent me in here to get us supplies."

Boba kept his aim steady as he checked the content of the closest crate. Thermals, high grade at that. Not the best idea to use in an underground base. Solo paced back and forth and while he was distracted, Boba picked up a couple of thermals. Always good to have for a rainy day.

Solo came to a sudden stop and rubbed his hands together. “Okay, I’ve got a plan.”

Boba rolled his eyes. “Good, because they’ve all worked out in the past.”

“Yeah, well, you might know my tricks but they?” he gestured at the cowering pirate. “They don’t.”

“We don’t!” the pirate agreed with a desperate note in her voice.

“That’s the spirit!” Solo gave her a blinding smile and handed her the blaster she’d dropped earlier. “Now call your friends and tell them that you’ve caught us.”

Boba stared at Solo who had the decency to squirm a little.

"It'll be fine, they'll take us to Rak so we can have a nice and calm conversation. We'll grab him and then find Chewie and your Mandalorian buddy."

"Or I could shoot them," Boba inclined his head toward their hostage who inched closer to Solo. "It wouldn't be difficult."

"Look what you did!" Solo grabbed the pirate by the arm and gave her a shake. "You upset her again."

If Boba kept rolling his eyes at this rate, they were going to get stuck the wrong way.

"She's a pirate," he said.

"Obviously not a very good one."

They finally agreed on something. Boba fought the urge to shudder and Solo looked like he’d eaten something that didn’t agree with him.

"You don't have to like it, alright?" Solo said. "If it all goes to hell you can shoot them. This way will still give us the opportunity to get them off guard."

Boba didn't say anything, he simply took the position that gave him the best vantage point. With some hesitation, the pirate activated her comm.

“Uh, hey, I’ve… I’ve captured them,” she said.

“You what?” came the reply through the crackling connection.

“I’ve captured them,” she repeated, it was in no way more convincing the second time she said it. “They’re in here. With me. In the storage room.”

“Who’s that?” a second voice asked, further away from the comm.

“I don’t know, I just grabbed someone to go get our stuff,” the first voice said. “Who’s this?”

“Uh… “ the pirate paled and she stared at Boba with wide eyes. “I’m uh… I… “ her voice faltered.

“Tell them,” Solo urged in a whisper.

“Yes,” Boba said. “Tell them your name.”

She whimpered. On the comm, they could hear several voices arguing about what to do when the line suddenly went dead. Her compatriots had apparently reached a decision.

The door to storeroom exploded inwards, showering them in smoke and debris. Boba took cover behind the crate, followed by Solo who was delayed by a few seconds as he took the time to drag the pirate down with him. They still made it right on time. A second later and their heads would've been in the perfect spot for the hail of blaster fire.

“Is this part of your plan?" Boba seethed. "Hiding from a firing squad behind a crate with thermal detonators?"

“I didn’t hear any suggestions from you!” Solo snapped.

Boba had several suggestions. Most of them involved shooting Solo. He figured he could wing it from there. 

“Don’t let up!” a new voice shouted. “I want them dead!”

“Oh hey,” Solo grumbled to the pirate who did her best to take up as little space as possible. "Your boss is here.”

”Kill them! Kill them!” Rak sounded more unhinged by the second and he hadn’t been doing great when they last saw him.

Boba gripped his blaster tightly. The fire was unrelenting and their cover wouldn’t hold for long. When that happened, blaster bolts would be the least of their problems.

“Okay. So. New plan," Solo glanced at Boba. “Well? I’m open to suggestions.”

Boba grimaced. “Why are you like this?”


	8. Deeds of Valor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long with this chapter. Work has finally started to pick up for me, which I’m not complaining about, but it gave me less time to go through and edit my draft for this fic. A draft that’s pretty rough in some places and there was a scene I trouble getting right.

The pirate glared at Din. If he was going for intimidating, he had to do a lot more than put scowl on his face. It was hard to find anyone intimidating while they were hanging upside down.

“I’ve got questions,” Din said.

“You broke my nose!” the pirate snarled at him. He ten proceeded to go through every curse and swear he had in his vocabulary.

It was almost impressive how many he knew but not very cooperative. Din’s elbow still smarted a little from when he’d slammed it back into the pirate’s face earlier. He was well aware that a broken nose was a possibility. There was a lot of blood. The pirate’s hands were firmly pressed against the now crooked nose in an attempt to stop the steady stream. He seemed to be doing alright all things considered but didn’t appear ready to cooperate yet.

Din looked at Chewbacca who had a firm grip around the pirate’s ankles. He’d been efficient in knocking out most of the patrols they’d run into since they lost contact with the others. Chewbacca had also been prudent enough to keep one of them conscious without Din having to say anything about it. It was a straightforward if temporary partnership. Din didn’t even have to ask for Chewbacca to give the pirate a good shake, reminding him of the situation. It was refreshing in Din’s opinion.

Din kneeled to get closer to the now quiet pirate. “First question. How’s your Shyriiwook?”

“Uh… “

The pirate’s neck strained as he tried to glance up at Chewbacca. Din wasn’t sure if he got a good look at the bared fangs but the low, rumbling growl was hard to miss. Din could almost feel the sound reverberate down his spine.

"Not good?" the pirate answered as he looked back at Din. His tone suggested that he wasn't sure if that was the right answer but that he desperately hoped it was.

"That's too bad. I'm a little rusty," Din said. "I get every other word."

Chewbacca delivered a snarl with impeccable timing. The pirate paled and it wasn't because of the continuous blood loss.

"I don't think he sounds too happy," Din went on. "Answer the questions before he decides to speed things up."

The pirate nodded.

"Good." Din leaned forward, elbow resting on his raised knee. "We've lost contact with the people we came here with. You know anything about that?”

“I don't know, I only do what I'm told," the pirate whimpered.

Din waited and it didn't take long before the pirate continued without any prompting.

"I had nothing to do with what happened. Rak ordered us to up the patrols inside the base so that's what I've been doing. Patrolling." The pirate shifted, as much as he could in his current position. "If I had to guess, I think Rak sent them down the death hole."

"Death hole?" Din shared a look with Chewbacca who didn’t appear surprised that his partner would've ended up someplace called the 'death hole'.

"Yeah!" The pirate nodded, the action seemed to make him a little woozy. "There's a... trapdoor in Rak's quarters. That's where they went after him, right? Don't know where it goes. Not sure Rak knows it either. He only threatens to use it on us, he’s never done it though.” The pirate sighed. “Because if you make him real mad he'd just shoot you on the spot."

“Sounds like a great boss,” Din said in a flat voice. “Third question. What’s Cubber Rak after?”

“I don’t know anything!”

It was a step back but not a surprising one. Once you’ve got them started, they usually didn’t need more encouragement but some of them had a tendency to fall back on their preferred mantras. Be it "I don't know anything" or "I didn't see anything". All he needed was for Din to give him another reminder why it was in his best interest to keep talking. Din grabbed the rifle that was slung over his back. The pirate stared at it with an alertness that impressive considering how long he’d been upside down for.

“Okay, so… “ The pirate gave Din a watery smile. “I might know a little.”

“What’s Cubber Rak after?” Din repeated with the right amount patience. Not too little but at the same time, not inexhaustible.

“I… you… I’m not sure what you want me to say.“ The pirate’s eyes roved all over the place before they settled back on Din again. “Shouldn't you know that already? I mean, you're the one Rak sent us to kill."

"I want to know what Rak knows."

“He doesn’t actually trust us with a lot of details, you know,” the pirate grumbled.

Din gave him an encouraging tap against the forehead with his blaster.

“Listen, all I know it’s about something you stole!”

“Rak mentioned what that was?”

“No idea! I swear! Can you let me down now? My head feels funny,” the pirate babbled, grasping at anything he could think to say that would get him down. “It’s about something you stole, that’s all I know… no wait, it wasn’t a something… it was-“

Din cut the conversation short with a quick jab with the rifle. If the pirate's nose hadn't been broken before, it was definitely broken now. Dine rose to his feet as Chewbacca put the pirate down on the floor in an ungraceful heap of limbs. Gentler than Din would've expected. The Wookie gave Din a curious look, one Din didn't have to know a language to know the meaning of.

“I didn’t take anything that was theirs to begin with,” Din said.

Chewbacca roared at him, it had reproachful note to it.

“I’m keeping it… them safe. From people like Rak and his old friends.” Din gripped the rifle hard enough to make the leather in his gloves creak. “I’ll protect them from you if I have to.”

Trying to stare down a Wookie, an experienced fighter at that, wasn’t one of Din’s best laid plans. Chewbacca looked more amused than anything at how Din squared his shoulders. Then he gave Din a gruff nod and friendly pat on the head. Din assumed it was friendly because his head remained attached to his neck afterwards but it had been a close call.

He cleared his throat. “What now?” he asked once he was sure his head wasn’t going to fall off. “Any idea how we find them?”

The increased number of pirates out and about had driven them further from where Boba and Solo had headed off to. They could force their way back but Din wasn’t sure if it would be worth it.

As Chewbacca was about to reply, there was loud boom. Distant at first until it rocked the entire underground structure. The explosion reverberated through the walls and floor, making everything shake and tremble. 

“Do you… “ Din paused as a sparking light fixture dropped down from the ceiling. “Think that was them?”

The weary look Chewbacca sent his way transcended the need for language. Din could feel it mirrored on his own face.

“Yeah. I thought so too,” he said and followed Chewbacca who was already headed in the direction of where it sounded like the explosion had come from.

**

Describing the pirates as a nest of Bacian blood hornets had been accurate. Boba had to give Dengar that one. On their own, they didn't amount to much but when they swarmed it was a problem. Especially if your only option for cover in a firefight was behind crates filled with thermal detonators.

That was the only reason Boba had gone along with Solo’s suggestion of a temporary surrender. He’d stressed the temporary part but it wasn't clear if he actually had a plan on how to get out without getting a face full of plasma. 

Whatever the plan was, Boba hoped it would work out better than all the other times Solo had risked it all for a win. At least better than all those times Boba had tried to collect the bounties Solo had earned with his strategies in gambling.

To be fair, Boba’s only plan at the moment was to bide his time as Solo’s plan fell apart, as usual, and he could find an opportunity to turn the tables. For now, the odds were in favor of Rak. The only improvement was that now there was no active firefight in a room full of thermal detonators. Instead, they were lined up in front of the crates filled with thermal detonators while Rak and his whole crew aimed their blasters at them.

“I’ve got a suggestion,” Solo said. “A bit of friendly advice.”

Boba despaired that Solo's voice might be the last thing he heard. That smug voice was hard to tune out. Listening to Solo trying to talk his way out of trouble was like watching someone fix a cold problem in their house by setting it on fire.

"Let’s talk about this,” Solo went on. “Somewhere where we’re all calm and relaxed. Somewhere we’re not surrounded by explosives. You know. As a suggestion.”

Rak's gaze seemed to clear a little and he frowned. "You're right.”

Solo sent a self-satisfied smirk in Boba's direction. It almost made him wish to be shot right then and there. Rak, meanwhile, nodded at two of his underlings.

"You two. Carry those crates out of here,” he told them. He glared at Solo. "You're not going anywhere."

"At least he's being reasonable," Boba muttered to Solo, who was no longer smirking. A small mercy Boba gladly accepted in these trying times.

"I'd like to point out, again, that I'm not with them," the still unnamed pirate called out to Rak as her former comrades carried out the order. She gingerly took a step forward. "Please, boss, I'm- "

Rak fired a blast right at her feet without a word. He’d had several words for her moments ago, when Boba and Solo surrendered their weapons. They had all been in regards to her presence in the storeroom. Rak had deemed it suspicious and had no interest in her explanation. That she'd only taken cover with the enemy because Rak had ordered the others to fire indiscriminately in a direction she had happened to be in. Rak had instead been quite liberal with the use of words like “traitor”, “deceit” and in a sudden fit of inspiration; “in cahoots with the enemy”.

"R-right." The unnamed pirate took a step back into her previous place in the line-up, in-between Solo and Boba. 

That didn’t deter Solo’s efforts in the slightest.

“Look here, Cubber,” he said. “I can call you Cubber, right?”

Rak’s entire face twitched, though not in a coordinated fashion. His eyes, nose and mouth seemed to be acting almost completely independently of each other. Boba was sympathetic. He could feel himself going through a multitude of expressions whenever Solo opened his mouth.

"I get why you’re upset, I do,” Solo said. “I'm not a fan of Fett either."

Solo couldn't see it but he could definitely feel the heat of Boba's glare through the helmet.

"I can’t change what happened to your sister but let me help you now. The Republic will make sure she gets the justice she deserved.”

It made little difference to Boba in the end if Solo believed his own lies about how the galaxy worked. What mattered was if Solo was gearing up to stab Boba in the back or not. Not that Boba had any problem with the strategy in and of itself, he’d simply wanted to beat Solo to it if that was the game they were going to be playing.

"The justice she deserved? What about the justice I deserve?” Rak scoffed. “I was supposed to be the one who killed her!”

"I understand... no wait, sorry, what?" Solo's mouth hung open in an uncharacteristic instance of speechlessness before he managed to form a reply. "That’s why you’re mad at Fett?”

"They thought she was so much better than me,” Rak muttered in a forlorn tone as he seemed to be going off someplace far away inside his own mind. “She always got the last word and now I’ll never be able to show her how wrong she was.”

Solo glanced over at Boba who gave a half-shrug in response.

“All because of Fett!” Rak hissed, his face flushed and his eyes looked ready to pop out of his skull.

The pirates closest to him shuffled a bit further away from their boss. They all had the look of a group who were ready to fall back on the age-old philosophy of “If I hang back, someone else can deal with whatever this is”. It was all predictable when you’d done this kind of work for as long as Boba had.

Rak was different. He looked as predictable as a man with hibernation sickness, blindly waving a durasteel pike around. Last time Boba had been in that situation, it had not ended well for him. This time, he was going to make the situation unpredictable on his own terms.

“I still have no idea who you’re talking about,” Boba said.

Rak scowled at him. “Shut up! Scum like you should know their place,” he sneered. “But I’m not unreasonable. I know you haven’t delivered the Mando or the asset yet. I can help with that.”

Boba didn't need to look in Solo’s direction to know the man was listening intently to everything Rak was saying.

“I can make sure the transaction go through and you’ll get a cut," Rak said. "You've worked with us before, you know the credits are good.”

“Pirate credits?” Boba said in a flat voice.

Rak grinned. “You know who I mean, Fett. All you have to do is give me the Mando and we’ll both get what we want.”

“What’s he talking about?” Solo asked, eyeing Boba with a guarded expression.

Boba felt a flicker of relief mixed in with a reluctant sense of gratitude. There was no way Solo hadn’t put two and two together. Mandalorians weren’t exactly a common sight in the galaxy anymore. Rak still didn’t know the Mando had come with them and Boba was grateful that Solo kept it that way.

“I don’t know,” Boba said. “I’ve collected a lot of bounties. It all blurs together after a while.”

Rak’s face twitched and it looked like it wouldn’t take much more to push him a little further.

“Whoever he’s talking about, it was nothing memorable,” Boba drawled. “Just like his sister.”

It only took Rak a couple of strides to cross the room, his hand raised the moment he’s in front of Boba. Rak managed to put more force into the blow than Boba would’ve expected. He hardly has to fake it when he goes down to his knees when Rak bashed the the blaster around the side of his helmet. Rak’s outburst placed him neatly in the line of fire and sight. It gives Boba a few seconds and that’s all he needs.

No one had been eager to volunteer to pat them down after they’d given up their blasters, the thermal Boba picked up earlier is right where he stashed it. To activate and throw the thermal only took a few seconds. The time it takes the thermal to sail through the air before it finally goes down the still open hatch seemed to last forever.

The room went dead silent. Except for the loud, echoing clangs as the thermal bounced off the walls on its way deeper down into the old tunnel right below their feet.

When Solo breaks into a sprint, closely followed by the still unnamed pirate, no one even thought of shooting him. Rather, they all seemed to come to the decision that Solo’s unspoken suggestion was a pretty good one.

For once, Boba would’ve followed Solo’s lead without question but the hum of a blaster keeps him from moving. Time sped up as Boba locked eyes with Rak. Before either of them can do anything, the floor opened and swallowed them up. All Boba could do was make a split-second observation. This was the third time that day he’d fallen into darkness.

**

At first, Boba didn’t know where he was or what he’d been doing up until that point when he opened his eyes again. It was dark but even what he could make out in the darkness made no sense. He recognized nothing around him. Then the pain hit him. His body ached in ways Boba didn’t know it could.

Right. Now he remembered. The explosion. The one he set off right under his own feet. That would explain the general banged up state of his armor and the world around him. He hoped that it was good sign that he could still feel anything.

Boba couldn’t tell how far he’d fallen into the old tunnels below. The detonation and subsequent collapse had gouged out a deep drop in the middle of the underground base. Somewhere above him, Boba could make out what could have been the slightly scorched ceiling of the storeroom. It didn’t look far off but the distance wasn’t the problem. There was a more urgent one.

He couldn’t move.

The sudden panic at the realization subsided when Boba reminded himself of the pain. Everything hurt. Right now, that was a good thing. The reason he couldn’t move was because he was half-buried under a pile of rubble. The pressure wasn’t enough to crush him, only enough to keep his arms locked against his sides and just enough space to wiggle his legs uselessly.

Moving seemed like a bad idea though. He could move his head a little but had no way of knowing what would accidentally shift whatever it was that kept the pile from actually crushing him.

Boba took a deep breath, careful not to expand his chest too much, and settled in. There was always a way to get out. He simply had to find it. Otherwise, he would be facing a rather ignominious death. This was a far cry from going down in a blaze of glory. A slow death in a quiet place.

Quiet if he ignored the occasional panicked shouting from above and below him.

That bothered him, if Boba was going to be honest with himself in what could be his last moments. If this was where he was going to die, his dad would have a lot to say about the decisions Boba had made that landed him in this mess. He had some regrets. Saving the Mando’s life wasn’t one of them. It was, of course, in the long run a meaningless act but Boba had enjoyed it. A small part of him hoped that the Mando got that even if he never really trusted Boba.

The weight of his own body felt like an impossible one to carry even if he wasn’t under a pile of rock and steel. It wasn't that he was giving up. His dad never taught him how. But he couldn’t move, everything hurt and if he only closed his eyes to rest, then he could figure something out.

At the sound of clattering rocks, Boba’s eyes snapped open again. He couldn’t turn his head far but somewhere on the rocky outcropping he'd landed on, there’s something shuffling towards him. There was rattling cough, followed by a raspy and weedy laugh.

“At least I’ll get the last word in with you, Fett,” Rak crooned from somewhere unseen.

Boba could hear him crawling closer, with a short break on the way as Rak’s body tried to cough up one or two lungs. All this and the bastard still hadn’t had the decency to die right away.

Rak struggled to heave himself up and now Boba could see him as clearly as their surroundings allowed. He was covered in a layer of dust and grime, it made him look grey and washed-out. The only dash of color were the numerous cuts and scrapes. The most eye-catching one was a deep gash across his forehead.

Boba’s armor might not have been the fancy beskar kind but it looked like it had served him well enough judging by the state Rak was in.

As Rak leaned over Boba, his mouth opened up in a bloody smile. “Do you remember her now?”

“Yes.” The lie came easily. “And they were right. She was better than you.”

“We’ll see about that,” Rak snarled and he reached for Boba’s helmet with a greedy look on his face. Gnarled fingers curled around the edge of his helmet.

Now when there was nothing left for him to do, Boba can admit to one more lie. It had meant something to him when he let the Mando see his face. With no ragged disguise to hide behind. Boba had wanted to know what the Mando would see. If there was more to see then what Boba saw when he looked in the mirror.

Boba didn't want to know what Rak would see. He didn't want that to be the last thing he lost before he died. But before Rak could pull the helmet off, Boba could suddenly see too much. A flash of light burned his eyes and it was only thanks to the still working helmet visor that saves Boba from being blinded. Which meant that he didn't miss a second of Rak's death.

It was over before Rak could scream. It had to be his imagination, because if anyone knew how fast a body disintegrated it was Boba. Still, he's sure he could see Rak’s face twist in fear and pain. That somehow Rak could feel how he was torn apart, atom by atom, until there was nothing but dust left of him.

All that remained of Rak soon became indistinguishable from the silica dust already swirling around.

The Mando cut a striking figure as he hovered in mid-air, rifle still at the ready, before he touched down next to Boba. Right where Rak had been only seconds ago.

“You got Rak all over me,” Boba muttered, a little dazed, as the landing kicked up more dust.

“Didn’t think you’d mind,” the Mando said, fastening the rifle on his back, and crouched down.

He brushed away the dust from Boba’s visor with the pad of his thumb. A gentle touch before he performed a more clinical check of the armor’s integrity.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I forgive you.” _For throwing yourself headfirst into danger, just like when I first saw you. I don’t need your protection, I don’t want it, I don’t des-_

"What?"

"For getting him all over me," Boba mumbled. His body seemed to be finally giving the whole delayed shock thing a go.

The Mando let out a subdued: “Heh.” It’s tinged with worry, just like his voice when he asks: “You stuck?”

"No, I'm enjoying the view.”

Boba craned his neck to gaze up at the Mando. He looked exactly like the fierce warriors his dad had told him about, every inch of him. He was also radiating the same tense worry as a stressed-out tooka-mother as he tried to keep Boba from moving his head.

"It's a good view,” Boba declared and got the distinct feeling the Mando was giving him a weird look.

What had seemed impossible only moments ago turns out to be tricky but manageable. Nothing like teamwork and the imminent threat of a place falling apart around you to motivate getting a job done quickly.

The Mando dragged Boba out from under the rubble. All of his limbs still worked, albeit under objection so Boba didn’t think twice about accepting the offered hand to help him up. Back on his feet, Boba staggered as black spots danced across his vision. A deep breath and the darkness swimming around the edges finally receded. It’s then Boba realized the Mando was still holding his hand in firm grip.

Boba’s head told him that the hand holding his was pleasantly warm. That was dumb because they were both wearing leather gloves. It was impossible for Boba to feel that. It was probably the shock that made him feel warm all over.

The Mando tugged on Boba's hand.

"What?" Boba said eloquently.

"Your pack took a beating and the only way out is up,” the Mando said. “The last passenger I carried was smaller than you. I’ll need a good hold if we’re flying in a cramped space.”

"Right. Might be a bumpy ride," Boba said. "My offer to give you a few pointers still stand."

“I’ll remember that for later.”

“I'll give you one right now," Boba said. "Try not to drop me.”

The Mando sighed. “I’ll keep it in mind."

Then he stepped forward and pulled Boba close, putting his arms around him. Since Boba couldn't find any reason to protest, he simply leaned against the Mando

“I need you to do one thing for me,” the Mando said.

“Yeah?” Boba mumbled and he could feel how his brain was starting to stall. “Anything.”

“Let me know if you’re about to throw up in your helmet.”

“Oh. Sure… “ Boba lifted his hand with some difficulty and patted the side of the Mando’s helmet. “Should I expect that with your flying?”

The Mando grabbed his hand and firmly placed Boba’s arm around his waist. “Best if you don't talk now.”


	9. Aftershock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven’t watched the new episode yet and I’ve decided to wait until I’m closer to finishing this fic. I’ve drafted most of it but I want to be in the same headspace as when I started writing when I do the last edits. Also, it’ll be a good motivation :)

The underground detonation hadn't caused any major damage above ground but it had rattled the Deimos’ spaceport. Confusion and fear was in full swing among its inhabitants, Din didn’t take any joy in it but it was useful. No one paid them any attention when Din used the chaos to disappear into an empty alley as soon as they got topside. Like the pirates, the townspeople had more urgent things to worry about than two bounty hunters making their getaway.

Din propped Boba up against the wall in the alley, half-hidden within a deep doorway. Not the best hiding spot but it would do for now. During most of their escape, Boba had been quiet in that intense way Din recognized as a side-effect of focusing on nothing else but the pain. Predictably, Boba tried to downplay it when Din made an attempt at a perfunctory check-up.

"I'm fine," he said in a terse voice as he batted Din's hands away.

The way Boba had accepted Din's wordless offer to lean on him on the way out had said otherwise. Then again, compared to the state Rak had been in, Boba almost had it easy. Even before Din took the shot, Rak had been all but done for. It wouldn't have been difficult to subdue without killing him at that point. Yet Din hadn't been able to.

“You killed him,” Boba said, as if he could hear Din’s thoughts.

“Yes.”

“Can’t say I’m going to miss him.”

There was no sign of the lingering horror Din would've felt if he'd been in Boba's place. Boba spoke matter-of-factly, like it was just another bounty collected. For Din, Rak’s death was a clean cut. A dead end to the potential trail that could've led anyone else to the Child. It had also been a careless act in the heat of the moment. The sight of Rak had sparked a something in Din he hadn't expected. Nor been inclined to deny.

"Although, I'm annoyed," Boba spoke up again, dragging Din back to present matters. "I set off a bomb and you’re still the one who got him."

Din stared at him. “That was you?”

Boba gave a quick nod in response.

“Are explosives your usual method when dealing with pirates?”

“No,” Boba said, his words slightly slurred. “Sometimes it’s disintegration. Some would say that’s my signature move but you weren’t half-bad at it. You’ve got a good rifle.”

“Thanks," Din said and handed him a bacta patch from his bag.

“I’m fine,” Boba groused again but reached for the patch anyway.

Din turned away from Boba. Ostensibly to keep watch. From behind his back, he could hear Boba stifle a chuckle.

“You can look now,” Boba said in a mocking tone, he managed that despite the likely concussion. “Helmet’s back on.”

“We should go,” Din said, still with his back turned. “The job’s done.”

The flimsy excuse of keeping watch was disproven in a definite manner when a voice called out from the other end of the alleyway: “Oh, it’s done alright.”

Solo was better at stealth than the past hours had suggested.

His scruffiness looked less like a conscious fashion choice now. There were scrapes across his face and slight limp to his gait as he made his way over to them. Chewbacca was in tow but looked better off with only a fine layer of dust coating his fur.

Din raised a hand in greeting and Chewbacca roared back. Din was relieved to see him. They'd parted ways when Din had continued onward, deeper into the ruined mines. Chewbacca had gathered up Solo and one frazzled pirate, who Din had vaguely recognized, before he made his escape to the surface.

“What part of ‘we need him alive’ didn’t you get?”

Solo sounded more annoyed than truly upset, which didn't exactly surprise Din. Boba had let him know bits and pieces of what had transpired. Rak hadn't earned himself any points with the whole execution by firing squad attempt.

Boba didn't move from his spot but Din could feel rather than see him go from relaxed to wary.

“You would’ve done the same,” Din said. Because even if he didn’t understand it, loyalty like the kind Chewbacca showed had to be earned. Somehow Solo had done that, just like Boba had earned Din’s.

“So it was you.” Solo frowned. “Chewie thought it would be but I had my credits on Fett being trigger happy.”

Chewbacca grunted and held out an expectant paw. Solo groaned and slammed a credit stick into his palm without taking his eyes off Din. Chewbacca let out a pleased rumble, baring his fangs at Solo. It didn’t seem as threatening now, unlike when he'd done it during his and Din’s interrogation of the pirate.

“I say I was half right,” Solo muttered to his companion. “Fett came close to killing us all with that stunt he pulled.”

“Made for a good distraction, didn’t it?” Boba didn’t sound apologetic at all. Then again, it looked like he caught the worst of it out of the two of them.

“I hate you.” Solo gritted his teeth and glared at Boba. “I really do.”

Boba didn't reply or make any kind of response but Din wondered if Solo could sense the insufferable smugness. If he did, Solo made no show of it which was the smart move when dealing with Boba’s unexpected ability of being aggravating without much effort. Instead, Solo returned his attention back to Din.

"Chewie and I compared our stories," Solo said, sounding more curious than confrontational. He scratched his chin. "You're not a bounty hunter who just happened to tag along with Fett, are you?"

“No,” Din replied. “He’s the tagalong.”

Boba snorted weakly at that but didn’t add anything to confirm or deny Din's assertion.

“Yeah, well, Chewie mentioned something interesting that came up during this whole mess," Solo said. “You stole from some imperial warlord?”

“Like I told you.” Din glanced at Chewbacca before he continued. “I didn’t steal. It was never theirs to begin with.”

“Still, that’s gutsy." Solo flashed him a quick grin. "It’s not the whole story though. Why did you decide to kill Rak?”

There were two answers Din could give to that question. Both of them he would never give up, not without a fight. One of them because the less people who knew why an insane and desperate ex-imperial would want to come after Din, the better. The other answer belonged to Boba.

Din wasn't good a talking. Not like Solo, who did it as easily as breathing and seemed to need it the same way too. Din used his words sparingly. That usually obfuscated matters enough. Without needing to create a lie that someone like Solo would sniff out like a well-trained massiff. But it wouldn't distract Solo for long. Din needed something good to throw him off the scent.

Boba didn’t give Din much time to figure out what that could be. One second he’d been leaning against the doorway, listing a little to the side. The next he was past Din, grabbing Solo by the collar of his shirt.

“You were going to hand me over to Rak,” Boba growled.

“Come on,” Solo wheedled. “That was all talk.”

So they were back to this then. Solo didn't appear too concerned by this development. Which in turn made Boba more determined to rough Solo up. Despite the state he was in, Boba succeeded in knocking the air out of Solo when he threw him up against the closest wall. Din couldn't blame him, that smirk on Solo’s face was annoying even if you didn’t have a previous history with him.

Din glanced over at Chewbacca, who once again seemed to be mostly bored with the whole thing. A Wookie would’ve definitely caught the smell of bacta which would explain why Chewbacca hadn’t ripped Boba’s head off yet. Din settled back as Chewbacca caught his eye and shrugged. For now, Din decided to trust that Boba had an idea where he where he was going with this. If it was because of the concussion or Solo simply being himself would be clear soon enough.

“Most if it anyway,” Solo continued with a completely unapologetic grin. “Let’s say I was undecided.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Boba said, through clenched teeth it sounded like. “Not this time.”

“That’s a first.” Solo huffed. “You got a funny way of showing it.”

With some reluctance, Boba let go of Solo and took a step back. It was show of good faith but Boba's moves were guarded. It reminded Din of a run-in he had with a bounty who’d nursed lofty ambitions that hadn't matched up to reality. He’d kept a nexu, as a pet and as a weapon, to create the image of a crime lord rather than small-time crook. The nexu had proved more of a challenge than its owner. It fought to the very end. Even when injured and cornered, the nexu had moved with predatory instinct.

"There's a condition," Boba said. “When you go back, run your mouth all you want about me but the Mando wasn’t here.”

“Uh-huh,” Solo said, glancing at Din. “Why would I bother telling them about your weird friend?”

Din bristled at being called weird. It wasn’t as if Solo had any ground to stand on.

“You won’t tell them anything,” Boba said in a low voice.

Solo let out a harsh laugh. “See, when you say it like that, it makes me feel like I should tell them about him."

"The Republic has nothing to do with this. It's no secret the Mandalorians got their own fight with the Empire. What's left of the both of them anyway,” Boba said. “It's of no concern to you, Solo, but if you want to be even? We'll be even. Keep your mouth shut. For once. Then I'll keep out of your and the Republic's way."

"That so?" Solo crossed his arms. "Tempting but I'm not making any deals with you, Fett."

They both used the other’s name like it was the worst kind of insult. If hadn’t been for the fact that they were both armed, Din would've have found their behavior ridiculous. He sighed and put his hand on Boba's shoulder.

He could feel Boba startle at the slight press of Din’s hand. A small tremble of fettered violence but Din met no resistance when he pulled Boba back. It was strange to have the galaxy's most notorious bounty hunter defer to him and if Din thought it strange, Solo appeared completely baffled by it. 

Din took the opportunity of Solo’s confusion to make his offer: “Then make a deal with me.”

“Uh… “ Solo exchanged a look with Chewbacca. "What kind of deal?" he asked, still looking a little thrown off by Boba’s easy retreat.

“I’ll give you a name,” Din said.

“Needs to be a pretty good name,” Solo said. “I don’t care about the name for the guy who buffs your helmet.”

He really liked the sound of his own voice, didn’t he? Din had never seen the point of hearing his own voice for the sake of it. You didn't need many words to get the job done most of the time. Boba had been unexpectedly chatty since Din met him but at least he didn't talk like he was paid per word.

Solo slowly uncrossed his arms and leaned back a little, like he was trying to get a better look at Din. “Is your price the same as Fett's?”

“No.”

Solo narrowed his eyes, for once not saying anything. Which meant he was beginning to consider Din’s offer. The noise around them had started to quiet down. Blaring alarms and panicked shouting giving way to the quiet acceptance of people who knew how to handle destruction of their home.

"If the Republic sent you here... then they can send help," Din said.

The wariness on Solo's face vanished, leaving him momentarily slack-jawed. "What?"

"I'll give your name for that. It's more than Rak would've given you."

“It’s not like I can snap my fingers and someone will come running,” Solo muttered.

“Ask the princess,” Boba sneered from his spot, a step behind Din. "After all, when she snapped her fingers you came running here."

“Are… “ Solo rubbed his forehead with a perplexed expression on his face. “Are you drunk?”

“Concussed but that's not important,” Din said. “Do we have a deal?”

It wasn’t clear if it was the prospect of returning empty handed or the whispered aside from Chewbacca that finally convinced Solo. In the end, he threw his hands up in a somewhat annoyed defeat.

“Alright! Fine!” he said, sounding put upon. “For some reason Chewie thinks it’s a good deal. You’ve been, and I’m quoting here, very polite.”

Din hadn't exactly been exerting himself to be agreeable. The present company made it easy to stand out. He made no comment of this.

“Good,” he said instead. “Moff Gideon.”

“What?”

Din treated himself to rolling his eyes behind his visor. “That’s the name,” he clarified. “Whatever Rak was contacting them for, he’s involved."

“There were a lot of Moffs. I don’t remember every single one,” Solo protested at Chewbacca openly rolling his eyes at him. “And how do you know that?”

“That’s not part of the deal.” Din said. “Take it or leave it.”

Solo managed to combine most of the galaxy’s known Huttese curses into a single inarticulate noise. Chewbacca patted him on the head until he calmed down and turned to leave. Chewbacca roared what Din interpreted as an agreement and friendly farewell before he followed. On their way out of the alley, Chewbacca slapped Solo on the shoulder and the man sighed.

"You know what?" Solo stopped in his tracks, and looked over his shoulder at Din. "I'll throw in a little extra in our deal. Seeing how you're so very polite. We won't mention you when we get back. Because I'm nice like that."

Chewbacca snorted.

"Yeah, okay, I'm not but Chewie here likes you for some reason." Solo threw one last suspicious glare in Boba's direction. "And if it means you'll stay out my life, then maybe I’ll end up dying as a happy man.”

“If you don’t keep your mouth shut, I’ll make sure you die as anything but happy,” Boba sneered.

Din resisted the urge to groan at the casual threat. Chewbacca made no such attempt to hide his annoyance.

“I’d like to see you try!” Solo shouted as Chewbacca dragged him out of the alley.

Din gripped Boba around the arm without even looking. He kept a tight grip on Boba until Solo and Chewbacca were out of sight. They could still hear the reproachful roar and ensuing answer: “No, I don’t know when to keep my mouth shut. You should know this by now, Chewie.”

**

Back at the hangar, where they’d left Dengar’s ship, the old Rodian woman still ignored them like a true professional. It was uncertain if the underground detonation had made a bleep on her radar or if the latest issue of _Galactic Gossip_ required all her attention. On the ship, Din made sure to steer Boba away from the pilot seat.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” Boba said but sat down in the co-pilot seat without much fuss. He leaned back, hands on the armrests and let his legs sprawl out. “I didn’t throw up once.”

“Let’s keep it that way,” Din said, torn between amusement and worry at Boba Fett sounding like a petulant child. “I’ll get us back to the station.”

Where Din assumed Boba could find some sort of medcenter if need be. The kind that didn’t ask unnecessary questions. Until then the bacta patch seemed to have lessened the pain somewhat. Boba was more lucid now than before but without a medisensor Din couldn’t be sure he would hold up until they got back to the space station. Unless Boba removed his helmet.

Boba had scoffed at Din's beliefs. Actively tried to use them against Din to provoke him. Not that Din would ever admit that it’d worked. Boba had made it clear that the act didn’t hold the same meaning for him as it did for Din. He’d done it in front of Din, seemingly without a second thought. Yet to ask for him to remove his helmet was an entirely different thing.

Especially now, with the memory of finding Boba down in the mines again still fresh in Din’s mind. He could’ve taken a different approach, there had been time to render Rak harmless without killing him. Din could’ve let him live. If it hadn't been for that dark and furious feeling that had flared up within him at the sight of Rak leaning over Boba.

Part of Din had known at that moment that Rak taking Boba’s helmet wouldn’t have meant the same for Boba as it did for him. What he did know was that before, Boba had allowed Din to see him when he removed his helmet. He’d treated the act with indifference but it had been on Boba’s terms. That meant something to Din even if it hadn’t been anywhere close to adhering to the Way. Because Boba had revealed more to him just his face. It wasn't something Din could simply ask him to do again.

"The concussion," Din began gingerly. "I'm not Rak... " He trailed off, unsure of what words to use.

Boba looked him up and down. “I can see that. Didn’t hit my head that hard.”

"You can't know that."

"Pretty sure that I can, Mando." Boba tacked on the moniker as if to make it clear that he did know who he was talking to. "It's fine."

“If you take your helmet off, I can make sure you don't die on the way.” Din stood in front of Boba. “It’s up to you."

Boba stared at him for a moment before he laughed. "I hope you'll still respect me in the morning," he said and took his helmet off with no more preamble.

It looked like it took some effort because he slumped back, helmet dangling almost by his fingertips as he let his arms hang off the side of the seat. His eyes still gleamed with amusement, watching intently as Din leaned closer.

He tilted Boba's head up, hand under his chin. The patch sat securely over the worst of the bruising and Din applied bacta spray to where he could see it was needed. Good thing he stocked up on the stuff after his own experiences on Nevarro. Boba’s pupils weren’t dilated and had no trouble focusing on every move Din made. His gaze was unwavering as he stared up at Din, like he could see right through the beskar. Although his breaths quickened while Din went through the checks for a severe concussion.

“How’s the pain?” Din asked.

“I’ll live,” Boba croaked.

“Hm.” Din stepped away to look for painkillers.

As he did, Boba frowned but it almost looked more disappointed than pained. "Were you always like this?” Boba muttered, but loud enough to make sure Din heard it. “Or did you start acting like a tooka-mother when you got the kid?"

Din returned with painkillers in hand, which Boba accepted readily with a quiet grunt and swallowed them dry.

“Hard to tell,” Din said and added in a pointed tone: “He’s never been thrown off a cliff by Wookie or set off an explosion under his own feet.”

“I’ve had a long day,” Boba agreed.

**

It had been a while since Din had piloted anything other than the _Razor Crest_ but getting Dengar's ship off the ground was easy enough. Din split his attention between navigating and keeping an eye on Boba, who had yet to put his helmet back on. It was a quiet and calm flight. The adrenaline rush that had made every nerve in Din’s body buzz soon gave way to a strange restlessness.

Rak was gone, giving Din that brief window of time that he needed. He could return to Deimos with the Child. Track down the merchant and hopefully learn more about the cube. The holocron as Boba had called it. Meanwhile, Boba would get his cut of the credits for killing Rak. Din would go one way and Boba the other. That was how this job had been supposed to go. Not counting the slight detour on the way.

Next to Din, Boba was silent and slouched in his seat. When Din had seen him without the helmet for a second time, he hadn’t given himself any time to think about it. The possibility of a serious head injury had been more pressing. Now, every time he glanced over to check on him, Din took the time.

Boba’s appearance was somehow what Din had expected and at the same time, not at all. The lines around his eyes had relaxed as Boba gazed out at the stars. His dark eyes didn’t seem as harsh now as Din would’ve thought. Though his scars spoke of past violence that fit with what Din had previously heard about Boba Fett. Only now he was beginning to think that Boba had experienced as much of it as he’d dealt out.

On Deimos, the way Boba had acted was what Din had to come to recognize as the truth to the many stories about him. Unpredictable and violent. His face reflected that but when Din had seen Boba’s face, he’d seen the hidden intent that laid beyond Boba’s words and actions. The sharp smiles and eyes that had never learned to conceal thoughts and emotions.

Now the silence felt like physical thing between them.

Boba was the one to break it with a succinct: “You’re a terrible bounty hunter.”

Din turned his head to openly stare at Boba who serenely stared back at him. Even without the helmet, in spite of the concussion, Boba still managed the effortless front of quiet menace without breaking a sweat. It would've been more effective if Din didn't know what to look for to see past it.

“Saved your life in the mines,” Din noted.

“Anyone else would’ve left when they heard the explosion.”

“You trusted me back there,” Din said. “I wouldn’t had deserved it if I didn’t have your back too. And now, I’ll only owe you one more favor.”

“You make things complicated.” Boba squinted at him with critical eyes. “Complications are bad in our line of work. With the people we meet. People like Moff Gideon. I know their kind.”

“Life is complicated,” Din countered. He got a front row seat to the show that was Boba rolling his eyes at him in the most dramatic way possible. Din couldn't stop his lips from twitching at the sight. “And it doesn’t become less complicated when you decide to slam someone against a wall and threaten them,” he said.

“Hm? Oh, _that_.” Boba smirked and raised his chin. “Got Solo to stop hounding you about Rak, didn’t it?”

“So it was for my benefit?”

“I’d say it was equal parts for you and for my own benefit.” Boba's smirk wavered and turned into something more genuine. He looked younger when he smiled. “Roughing Solo up is very therapeutic.”

“I see,” Din said, he was sure Boba could hear the smile in his voice. He didn’t care. “You don’t follow your own advice. Not from what I’ve seen since we met.”

“You’re lucky I decided to make an exception to the rule when we first met. Besides, I saved you and the kid, I didn’t try to save a whole planet," Boba said with a slight grimace.

“I didn't ask Solo to help the whole planet," Din replied. "Only the spaceport."

"Right. Only the spaceport."

"I know it probably won't make a difference. I... "

Like so many times before when speaking to Boba, Din struggled to find the words he needed.

"I have to try. I need to be more than I was when I found him."

Din couldn't be sure if he found the right words. The art of speech had never been his strong suit but that was becoming less and less important the more he spoke with Boba. Even if Din hadn't been able to see the expression on Boba's face, he would've known that he didn't need to elaborate. Not on who he was talking about or what he was trying to say.

“Maybe I won't change anything, maybe it'll only change me,” Din said. “If I can be better for the kid, that'll be enough."

Despite Boba being a stranger to Din in so many ways, his thoughts were in that instant easy to put into words.

"You told me you didn’t know if helping me would make any difference. Maybe it won’t change anything, but it changed you.”

"I've made my choices. I am what they made me," Boba said. "One decision can't change that."

"I wouldn’t have come back for you if I believed that.”

With that said, Din felt that deep in your bones exhaustion that always came after particularly demanding job or bounty. Instead of restless, he finally felt calm. Boba didn't offer any comment, only closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat.

Din let him be. The silence didn't carry the same weight anymore. This was the end of their unlikely partnership, after which they would go their separate ways. Din had said what he needed. It would hold true even if their paths never crossed again.

**

It wasn’t until the ship signaled that they were approaching the station that Boba spoke up again.

“You already are,” he said, eyes still closed. There was something hesitant in his voice. Like he’d been going over their conversation the entire way back and only now found what he needed to say.

Din hailed the station and then he waited.

“I don’t know who you were before you found him but you've changed." Boba opened his eyes to look at the signet stamped on Din’s pauldron. “You’re not alone anymore.”

That warm flutter in his chest Din felt when he thought of the kid made it hard to look at Boba. At times the sensation was almost painful and now it made forming any reply impossible.

Din didn't know who Boba had been before he met him. Other than the rumors and horror stories that he'd overheard in the cantina back on Nevarro. Din didn't know much about Jango Fett either. He'd picked up a word or two shared among those in the covert old enough to remember. They'd said that Jango Fett had been a man loyal to no one but himself. Din didn't believe that was the entirety of the story anymore.

Because Boba must have been someone Jango had loved. To teach him everything that made Boba into the warrior he was now and it wasn't difficult to hear it in the way Boba spoke of him. Always outwardly indifferent but it was clear if you listened. In their own way, Din knew they had been a clan of two.

There wasn't anything in Din's power to change what had already happened. To undo what caused Boba’s resignation on who he was. Any decision Boba made now or anything Din could say would never erase what already was.

If Boba expected a reply, he didn't show it. Din heard him put his helmet back on at last when the station sent their response to the hail along with the go-ahead for docking. If there had been a moment to say anything, it was now gone. The only sound in the cockpit was the low groans from the ship as Din piloted it towards the landing-bay.

“Lightsaber!”

Din almost shaved a layer off the ship’s hull against the station at Boba's sudden exclamation.

"What?"

"Considering the kid's... talents," Boba leaned forward in his seat, he didn't appear bothered by Din's hasty correction to the ship's course. "How do you feel about a lightsaber?"

Din considered this. “A what?”

Boba nodded as if Din had agreed with him instead of expressing complete and utter confusion.

“Since you shot down my other suggestions," he said with a note of excitement. "I've seen them in action. Annoying but useful if you get your hands on one. Cuts through pretty much anything. If you could get the kid one, I’d like to see a pirate try to come after him. He’s at the right height for most species’ kneecaps." Boba tapped his finger against the armrest a few times before he continued. "I fought Vader with one. Way back."

Din tried to remember how many painkillers he’d given Boba. They couldn't have been that strong. 

“You did what?”

“It was green,” Boba replied as if that explained everything. “Didn’t go great but I survived.”

Din stared at Boba. "Maybe you're the one who's lucky that you made an exception to the rule when we met.”

“Yeah,” Boba said in a quiet voice that Din wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear. “Maybe I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to “Selma references old Dark Horse comics”. Boba Fett vs Darth Vader with lightsabers is from Star Wars Tales #11. I’m undecided if it really happened within this fic-universe or if it’s just Boba’s concussion+painkillers talking at this point :D


	10. Recollections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so grateful for all the comments and kudos. Thank you so much! It’s a huge boost and makes me want to write every chance I get. You’re really made this into a fun experience <3

From the outside, the small medcenter didn’t draw much attention to itself. Situated in a more secluded part of the space station, it only announced its presence with a small sign in Basic that lit up with flickering neon. Once you went inside, the medcenter itself didn’t give the best first impression.

“Works like it was assembled yesterday,” the doctor proclaimed, waving the medisensor around. He thwacked it against the table when it started beeping and chiming. “Yeah, like new!”

It fit Boba's needs perfectly.

“You won’t even have to take off your helmet. I’ll see enough with this thing to give you a clean bill of health. Or not. Depending on what I find.”

Boba’s stony silence was a strong hint that he had no interest in the details of the medical procedure. The doctor cleared his throat and got on with it.

"You're a bit banged up for sure but it looks good. Nothing that should give you any trouble,” the doctor said, looking through the readouts from the scan. He scratched his nose. “I think."

Boba braced himself against the wall and leveled a cold stare at the doctor. "You think?"

“Hard for me to be absolutely sure,” the doctor said. “Your head is a smaller than a fathier's skull.”

That his head was not the same size as one the galaxy's most popular riding animals came as no surprise to Boba. He didn't need a professional opinion to know that.

"Humans aren't my area of expertise," the doctor went on. "Used to work at a racetrack on Cantonica." He put his hands behind his back, leaned back on his heels and stared up at the ceiling. "Until I got more into betting on fathiers than treating them."

He sighed, lost in thought for a moment before looked back at Boba with a smile.

"The basics are the same though so I’m pretty sure you’ll be alright. Slap some more bacta on it if it acts up. You’ll be back doing… whatever it is you do, in no time!”

Boba couldn’t argue with that work ethic, this was exactly what he’d paid for.

“Now, is there anything else I can do for you?” The doctor dropped himself down in a rickety chair in his so called office. “Organs? You look like you could be in the market for some extras. Kel Dor lungs? Rodian spleen? I’ve got a bunch in the back.”

A beat of silence passed between them.

“I’m joking, of course! I find that sense of humor helps when you’ve had to make drastic career changes.” The doctor rubbed his hands together. “That and drugs! Which I do have a lot of, can I get you any? What’s your poison?”

Boba turned on his heel and left. It took some effort because the drugs already in his system made it feel like his feet weren’t necessarily part of the rest of his body.

“Is poison your poison?” the doctor called after him. “’cause I’ve got that too!”

The door to the medcenter slammed shut on the doctor’s offer, alerting the Mando who opted to wait outside. Boba had told him there had be no need for him to come along at all. The Mando had done an expert job of not listening to him.

He’d waited for Boba.

“Like I said.” Boba’s voice didn’t have the sharp edge he intended. The painkillers did everything more difficult, except for the pain. “I’m fine.”

The Mando didn’t reply. He didn’t say anything even as Boba’s foot caught on the uneven floor plating. Not one word was uttered when the Mando imperceptibly inserted himself into Boba's personal space. A light touch by his elbow to steady him.

Dengar didn’t say anything about it either when he showed up but the stupid grin on his stupid face didn’t bode well for Boba.

"What the hell happened to you?" Dengar's eyes flitted between Boba and the Mando, taking note of the lack of space between them.

“Nothing,” Boba said.

“Uh-huh, that’s why you told me to meet up with you at the medcenter?”

“They said I was fine,” Boba amended.

"The worst of it seems to be because of the painkillers," the Mando told Dengar.

Dengar laughed outright at that. "Oh, definitely. Last time he was on them, I got him to agree to be best man at my wedding."

Boba lurched forward, the potential fall only hindered by the Mando. Taking advantage of his hands being occupied with keeping Boba upright, Boba turned the Mando’s head forcibly towards him.

“That never happened,” Boba said gravely.

The Mando tilted his head to look at Boba before he gently pried his hand off his helmet.

"You say that but I definitely remember getting married,” Dengar said with pride, like it was a huge accomplishment. Then again, Dengar being who he was, it was some sort of accomplishment.

"Did you drug Manaroo too?" Boba muttered but that didn't sour Dengar's bright mood the slightest.

"He tell you about fighting Darth Vader with a lightsaber yet?" Dengar asked the Mando. "He gets really worked up about that one."

“Is this a regular occurrence?” the Mando said.

"Nah, but after we fished Fett out of the sarlacc he was pretty keen on painkillers." Dengar sighed. "It was hilarious."

"Didn't fish me out," Boba said. "I got out on my own."

"Didn't get very far on your own though," Dengar said..

His tone was cheerful, not all worried about the fact that Boba would take his revenge as soon as the station’s artificial gravity stopped working against him. At the moment, walking back to the landing bay presented a different kind of challenge to Boba than putting one foot in front of the other usually did. Not that he needed the Mando’s steady presence by his side to walk but he couldn’t find any reason to reject it.

“You've been inside a sarlacc and survived,” the Mando stated, sounding neither impressed nor horrified. More like he was testing the words to see if that made them more believable.

"He told you about that?" Dengar said.

"Not exactly. It was mentioned," the Mando said. "So to date, you’ve survived being eaten by a sarlacc, getting thrown off a cliff by a Wookie and detonating a thermal right under your feet?”

"Give or take a few near death experience," Boba said.

"And the… the lightsaber fight? Did that actually happen?"

Dengar shrugged. “Who knows when it comes to this guy?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Boba said.

“You’re the one who keeps harping on about how I shouldn’t trust you.”

Boba glowered at Dengar. He was far too busy ruining the last shreds of dignity Boba had left after the whole Solo induced insanity to notice. There was some mercy to be had when they reached the landing bay at last. The Mando's attention shifted from the idiocy Dengar was spewing to something else entirely.

Manaroo was already there, sitting on a bench someone had set up against the wall. The Mando’s full focus was on her the second he saw her. Or rather when he saw the child, who Manaroo was trying to feed a bread-puff to with little success. Any further attempts were doomed the second the Mando arrived.

The reaction was instant. The child chirruped and reached out, grabbing at empty air and straining towards his father who walked over to them at a brisk pace. When he reached them, he picked up the kid, who looked up at the Mando with obvious adoration. His small hands curled around the Mando’s finger, the grip seemed unbreakable.

Something twisted inside Boba's chest and he looked away from the scene. Only to be met by the knowing look in Dengar's eyes. Boba poked him hard in the chest.

"I did fight Vader with a lightsaber."

“Sure you did,” Dengar said, batting Boba’s hand away like he was an unruly child.

Boba was going to murder him. First chance he got. As soon as his brain didn't feel like it had the same texture as that bread-puff the child had rejected.

"You know," Dengar said in a thoughtful tone as he gave a short wave to Manaroo. "You say it never happened but I’m starting to think you foisted this babysitting gig on me as revenge for making you the best man. That kid is weird.”

A chill went down Boba's spine. Despite his best efforts to prove otherwise, Dengar wasn’t dumb. When it came to making credits, he was shrewd. The question was how much he’d figured out.

Boba had a feeling from the get go what it was that made the kid valuable. Pirates didn't put themselves at risk trying to catch a wayward Mandalorian and his adopted kid for nothing. Finding the holocron the Mando had been hiding only confirmed what he suspected.

He didn't know much about holocrons specifically. The Jedi artifacts had popped up once or twice when he’d done his research to find the best way to kill anyone with a mastery of the Force. That knowledge had become more useful than he could've imagined once the Empire came into power. Boba had proved himself very effective when it came to a certain kind of imperial paid bounties.

In a way he'd known since the moment he got that first close look at the pair on Deimos. There was no way he'd ever forget the only other person who seemed to share the child's mysterious origins. Because the first time he'd seen that person had been the same day he'd committed the face of his father's killer to memory.

That day was preserved with perfect clarity. The hum from beams of energy repelling blaster fire. How coarse the sun warmed sand had felt under his hands when he fell to his knees next to his father's severed head. That memory along with the Jedi's faces had been the only constant in the years that followed.

The pieces had been easy to connect. His experiences had given him a perspective others lacked. Those on the level of Cubber Rak couldn't see the bigger picture but proved themselves a threat despite that. How long could Boba trust Dengar if he found out a little piece of the truth? If the kid had done something, even a small push, then it wouldn't take Dengar long to figure it out.

“Don’t listen to him.” Manaroo’s cheerful voice cut through the cacophony in Boba’s head. “Dengar’s terrible with kids apparently.”

"Well, kids are weird and this one kept giving me funny looks,” Dengar complained. He stared balefully at the kid who practically shone with the sweet innocence of a child in response.

Boba blinked and steadied himself. The buzzing in his head settled. It left him with the uncomfortable realization that he hadn't noticed the Mando and Manaroo approaching. The painkillers were doing a real number on him and his awareness of his surroundings.

"He's been the perfect little gentleman," Manaroo said.

The Mando huffed out a breath. "Hope that sticks."

"Bit of a fussy eater though." Manaroo sighed. "I've been trying to make him eat something the whole day. I even made Dengar do the 'Here comes the spaceship'-routine but I think that only offended the little guy."

At the mention of that, the kid scowled at Dengar with a sullen pout. It made Dengar, who had once stood on the bridge of the _Executor_ and faced Darth Vader without flinching, to take a step back. That in turn caused Boba, who up until that point had been leaning against Dengar, to stumble.

The sudden movement made the kid turn his attention towards Boba instead. Dark eyes peered at him, almost without blinking. The Mando took note of it and turned his gaze in the same direction. Boba had a growing sense of being evaluated, for what he didn't know. It only got worse from there when he got his hands full with holding the kid the Mando handed over along with the barely nibbled bread-puff.

"No, I don't- " Boba struggled to keep a hold of the kid.

"Try to make him eat," the Mando said. “You’re already distracting him.

"I'm sorry?" Boba had never been sorry for anything in his life but he was out of his depth here. "Where are you going?"

"I need to pick up some things from Manaroo." The Mando's tone didn’t accept any objections Boba might've had prepared. "She bought them for the kid."

"I went a bit overboard," Manaroo said in a cheery tone and Boba felt somewhat vindicated by how expertly she ignored Dengar’s pained expression. “There was the food issue and then, you’re going to love it, this adorable hat!”

"You stay here." The Mando's voice softened. "Rest."

With that, Boba was alone. Left to the tender mercies of a child. He didn't count on Dengar on being helpful in anyway. The kid chirped at Boba and Dengar eyed them warily.

“See? The kid’s weird. He _likes_ you.” Dengar grimaced. “He threw food at me."

Boba adjusted his hold on the kid. The bread-puff still didn't garner any interest from the kid who seemed satisfied with staring up at Boba. Blinking appeared to be something that was optional. 

“He likes to eat frogs," Boba said. The kid’s ears perked up at the mention of frogs and Boba smiled. "He eats them alive."

"Okay, how many painkillers did you take?" Dengar frowned. "I've had my fun. Let's get you off your feet."

“I’m fine.” That one had become Boba's favorite mantra.

"Sure you are but I've got a bunch of rusty circuits that's been acting up lately so could we please sit down?"

Under normal circumstances, Boba would never in a million years allow himself to be bullied into anything by anyone. Especially not by Dengar, a hunter past his prime. Definitely not when he did something as suspicious as saying 'please'. But his mind wasn't cooperating with his body at the moment and if he was sitting down, there was less risk of dropping the kid.

The kid didn't have any objections to sitting down, seemingly finding Boba quite comfortable. Boba in contrast had never felt more awkward handling a bread-puff. The kid treated the offered food with indifference, instead he pawed at one of pouches by Boba's hip.

"Stop that,” Boba said.

The kid let out a low whine and his ears drooped, he stared at Boba with eyes impossibly big. 

"You heard your dad." Boba broke off a smaller piece from the bread and held it out. "Eat this and then you're done."

The kid heaved a sigh and accepted defeat. Chewing slowly, the look on his face spoke volumes. No one had ever, in the history of the galaxy, suffered as much. Boba could recognize a well performed feigned retreat. That didn’t mean that it wasn’t working.

He opened the pouch the kid had gone after, taking out the small frog he'd kept in there. It was no more than three inches long and dark green. It started to move sluggishly but it wasn’t enough to save it. The kid quickly nabbed it from Boba's hand and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Don't tell the Mando about this, if you know what's good for you," Boba said.

The threat didn't appear to be what was terrifying Dengar. "Can I at least ask where you got the frog?"

"No."

They watched as the kid finished off the frog, ending the spectacle with an impressive, given his size, burp.

"So, you got thrown off a cliff by a Wookie, huh? That's a new one," Dengar said, at first sounding desperate to talk about anything else other than what he witnessed. Then he made the offensive decision to try waggling his eyebrows again. “Anything else interesting happen on Deimos?”

"We ran into Solo and his pet," Boba said, desperate to make Dengar stop.

“ _Han_ Solo?”

Boba rolled his eyes. “No, it was another Solo."

“Painkillers must be wearing off. You're back to your usual charm," Dengar said cheerily. He leaned forward, an eager look on his face. "Did you kill him this time?"

Boba shook his head.

“Hm.” Dengar smacked his lips disdainfully. “Shame.”

"Almost killed him but we... " Boba took a deep breath. "I ended up having to work with him."

Dengar clapped him once on the shoulder in a silent gesture of solidarity.

Boba glanced briefly at Dengar, sitting next to him. "I take back everything I’ve said about working with you." Compared to Solo, Dengar was a delight.

“Wait… what have you been saying about me?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

The ship named ‘Dengar worrying about it’ had already launched, by now it had reached the edge of the known galaxy. Who Dengar thought Boba would sit down and gossip with, he had no idea. He didn’t even particularly enjoy having to talk to Dengar all that much.

"You’ve been chattier since you started hanging around that Mando and his kid,” Dengar said. “Are you going to go with them after this? I guess if they need another babysitter, you'd be the best and most awful choice."

“I’m going to soak in bacta for a week after this,” Boba said.

Dengar grunted dismissively. "Eh, you won't need that much," he said, which was a glowing compliment coming from him. "You two seem to have hit it off. That's uh... nice?"

Boba gave serious thought to taking his helmet off right there in the landing bay. If Dengar saw the expression he wore right now it might shut him up.

Or not.

Dengar barked out a laugh. "Don't try to give that look," he said. "I know you."

Boba drew himself up. "You don't." Despite the residual effects from the anesthetic, his voice was steely.

"Come off it, Fett. Sure, you're a cagey bastard but I'm not blind." Dengar fell silent, almost as if he was thinking about what he was going to say before he blurted it out. "You're acting more like a person."

“That’s probably because of the painkillers.”

"No, that's not... ugh." Dengar’s face scrunched up. "Listen, I'm not going to mess up a good source of credits by saying something that actually pisses you off."

"That warms my heart."

"Shut. Up." Dengar glared at him. "No one would believe me even if I told them about this."

"Told them what exactly?"

"All I'm saying is that it's not the worst that could happen. Finding someone who makes you more of person again." Dengar leaned back, arms crossed. "Some helpful advice, that's all."

Out the corner of his eye, Boba saw Dengar pull down his head-covering over his eyes. Boba waited for a few beats.

"What if you make them less of a person in the end?" he said.

Dengar snorted and hiked up the wrappings to squint at Boba. "Right now, Fett?" He gestured at the child, who at some point, had fallen asleep. His head tucked into the crook of Boba's arm. "I think that’s a fight you’re losing.”

That didn’t necessarily sound like a bad thing to Boba.

**

Boba stood at the end of the _Razor Crest’s_ ramp. When the Mando announced he was leaving, Boba trailed after him. He was definitely feeling a lot more like himself now, which made the decision to follow the Mando once again all the more inexplicable.

"You're going back to Deimos," Boba said. The Mando had joined him by the ramp, after he was done tucking in the still sleeping kid somewhere on his ship. "I assume that's where you found it."

"I need more information," the Mando said. "The merchant who sold it could know."

Boba frowned. "You just happened to come across it at a black market?"

"The child recognized it. I don't know how, but he knew."

Boba felt a ripple of apprehension go through him. He'd never been afraid of the Jedi and the strangeness that followed their kind. It had only ever been another set of obstacles when it came to killing them. This was different. If there had been Jedi on that planet… whatever it was they and the Empire had done down there it was bad news.

"The Empire was doing more than mining on Deimos,” Boba said. “What I saw in the old tunnels… they kept something down there.”

“What kind of something?”

“The kind with claws and big teeth judging by the pile of bones I landed in."

The Mando didn't turn his head to look back toward the ship but it was like a string between him and the kid suddenly went taut.

“I won’t let anything happen to him," the Mando said.

“It's not always a choice you get to make."

The day his father died was a memory Boba had gone over and over again until every detail had been deeply ingrained into him. It fueled his rage for so many years. Made him stronger, better and ruthless. It wasn’t until that was all he was when he realized that other memories had faded.

He could remember his father returning after being away for days. He could remember him kneeling right there in the doorway, holding his arms out for Boba. He could remember burying his face into his father’s neck, holding on tight. His father holding him even tighter. In an abstract way, Boba knew that in those moments – his father had smelt of burnt plasma and the salt from Kamino’s constant rains. He knew how safe that had made him feel.

But by then, his rage had scorched those memories. Boba had never stopped to mourn the loss of them, to stop for anything always meant dying in the life he built for himself. Then in one single moment, he’d remembered everything that he’d lost and would never have again. In that moment on Deimos, watching the Mando risk everything for that kid, he couldn’t bring himself to make the smart choice.

All because of a purely childish and laughable notion. His decision wouldn't change anything, despite what the Mando believed. But maybe he was right about one thing. If Boba had made sure the kid had more memories of his father than Boba had, then that could be enough.

"The Jedi." The Mando was silent for a beat. "What did they do to you?"

"You know surprisingly little about them for a Mandalorian," Boba sneered.

"Before my time." The Mando didn't move but Boba could feel him avert his gaze, his eyes fixed on a point beyond. "You said you killed them. Would you've helped us if you knew what he was?"

Boba swayed on his feet like he'd been struck. "He's not one of them." He set his jaw. "Not yet. Not until they take him from you."

If he got a clear look at the child before he took the shot, would he have done the same decision? He didn't know and now that chilled him to the core.

"I would never, I can't... not now." Boba's voice couldn't carry him any further.

“You’ve changed then.”

It was naive. Too simple. With a father like that, the kid was bound to pick habits detrimental to surviving. Honor, scruples and hope. Something twisted and broke inside Boba.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Boba said, his voice still sounding strange to him. "But I could be useful to you.”

“How many explosions would your help involve?”

Boba couldn’t help grinning. The Mando could be cocky when he wanted to be.

“I can keep it to a minimum,” Boba said. “Two explosions at the most.”

“Hm.” The Mando considered his offer. “You get one.”

“I can live with that.”

"I'm not sure that you can," the Mando said. "Despite your own advice, you complicate things. People _know_ you. You've told me not to trust you."

Of course it was true, every word. Trouble followed them both. But Boba was the trouble the Mando should be leaving behind. The Mando turned away from Boba, taking a few steps up the ramp. He didn’t take his eyes off him and Boba felt pinned beneath his gaze.

"Come on then."

Whatever twisted and broke inside him shivered. It's wasn’t a bad feeling and Boba followed the Mando up the ramp.


	11. Keepsake

When they returned to Deimos, the regular black market activity was back in full swing. Almost like nothing had happened at all. This time around, Din let the child explore the busy market at his own pace. It was easier to do now that there were two pair of eyes keeping him under watch.

Boba stalked the child like a dark shadow, glaring in silence at anyone who dared or simply happened to get too close to the child. The child seemed unfazed by his self-proclaimed bodyguard. Now and then, he would turn to look for Boba behind him. Whenever that happened, Boba would break away from lurking nearby to crouch down at the child's side. He nodded along as the child pointed something out to him in the market with an excited coo.

It freed up Din's time to ask around for the Weequay who'd sold them holocron, albeit not knowing what it actually was. The spot where he'd last seen the merchant's stall wasn't empty, but another vendor had taken his place.

“Oh, that guy?" The replacement vendor scratched at the thick mane of fur that lined her face. “Doesn’t hang around here usually, got a permanent shop set up not far from here.”

She grinned at the child who'd toddled up to Din, tugging at his leg so Din would pick him up again. He'd been more keen on being carried around since their first prolonged separation after Nevaroo. Din didn't mind.

“What do we have here?" the vendor asked. "Is it for sale? I could get you a good pri- “ She stopped and recoiled, her fur rippling, when Boba appeared by Din’s side.

“Directions.” Boba said. It was in no way a friendly question.

“Yeah, sure, I can do that,” she said with a weak voice.

Din rolled his eyes and picked the kid up. He'd never had any problem finding out what he needed when he'd been hunting on his own. Boba's assist did speed up the process. He could make standing quiet in one place or a single word seem more threatening that it had any right to be.

The Weequay’s shop wasn't far from where they'd started looking, like the vendor had said. Heaps of junk arranged into neat piles lined the front of the shop. An organized chaos that was enough to repel any thieves it seemed.

“How do you want to do this?” Boba said when Din was about to pull aside the curtain over the doorway into the shop.

Din paused. "Let me handle it," he said and handed the child over to Boba.

“I could make him talk.” Boba sounded sure of himself, the fact that he was holding a small child, babbling excitedly, didn't seem to deter him at all.

“I’m sure you can,” Din said, bemused.

The second Din set his foot inside the shop, the Weequay burst out from the shop's backroom like he'd been planning an ambush. When he spotted Din, the merchant froze for a fraction of a second. Then his face broke open into a toothy grin and he settled behind the rundown counter.

"Ah, my favorite customer!” the merchant said. “One of them at least. I have many.”

His face fell when Boba followed Din inside the shop.

“Oh no! Did Boba Fett steal your baby?”

Boba straightened up at the accusation and stared at the merchant. Din motioned him to stay back and stepped up to the counter.

“He didn’t,” Din assured the merchant before things escalated.

“In that case,” The grin was back in its place with breakneck speed. “What can I get you today, Mando?”

The merchant made a sweeping gesture to show off his wares. Most of it was spilling down from the shelves and onto the floor of the shop.

“I’ve got loads of junk- " The merchant cleared his throat. "I mean, treasures for you to peruse. Feel free to look around. You won’t be disappointed.”

Before Din had time to respond, the merchant ducked behind the counter and brought something back up. It looked like a half-melted power converter.

"Incredible stuff, am I right? You can't put a prize on it." The merchant threw it over his shoulder, off-setting the delicate balance of a pile of scrap behind him. "But for you? I'll do my best to find a fitting prize that you'll find most satisfactory."

Din held up the holocron to put a stop to the sales' pitch. “I need to know more about this.”

“That’s what we’re trading today?” The merchant’s eyes sparkled. “I would love to help you, I really would. If only my memory wasn’t so foggy.” He heaved a heavy sigh in case his act was too subtle. 

Din bit back a groan and was about to respond with the expected next step in the routine when Boba was suddenly standing right beside him, like he’d been there all along. Din’s senses went on high alert before they comprehended that there was no actual threat. Not to Din at least. Boba placed the kid on the counter and then leaned on it, elbow resting against the top as relaxed as could be, and simply stared down the merchant.

“What do you know!” The merchant fidgeted. “It’s all coming back to me now.”

The child stared at Boba, fascinated by the instant effect he had on the merchant. Din, meanwhile, couldn't help but to feel a little insulted by it.

“I’ll tell you everything you want to know, real cheap too.” The merchant seemed to have found some courage with his next demand. “But he has to buy something from me first,” he said and pointed at Boba.

“What makes you think you have anything I want?” Boba said.

“I don’t care what you buy. Grab what you like, I got everything from toys to spare parts,” the merchant said. “I’ll accept any price for whatever you pick. Well below what I usually charge for information."

“What’s in it for you?” Din asked.

"If he buys something, I’m within my legal right to use it in my advertising.” The greedy spark in the merchant’s eyes that Boba had momentarily chased away was now back. “ _Boba Fett shops here_! It’ll made a great sign out front.”

“Might be bad for business,” Boba said, words laced with the promise of many, many awful things. “And I’m not looking to advertise.”

"Oh please, like anyone actually thought the rumors about your supposed death were true. I didn't!" The merchant placed his hand where Din assumed his heart was. "I believed in you, the great Boba Fett."

Boba stared at the merchant for a few beats before turning to Din. “You sure I can’t _make_ him talk instead?” he said, almost on verge of pleading.

“Don’t,” Din said. “Not in front of the kid.”

The child cooed and Din absent-mindedly bopped him on the nose which resulted in pleased babbling. He’d already seen enough of violence and Din was sure there would be more for him to witness and experience. He knew better than to think he could protect the child from it forever. But it seemed like a good idea to avoid letting Boba beat up a belligerent merchant.

Boba took one look at the kid before returning his undivided attention to the merchant. He flipped a small credit chip onto the counter.

“I’ll grab something on my way out,” Boba said and prowled off. Presumably to practice lurking in the shadows outside the shop instead.

The merchant kept quiet until Boba was out of sight.

“This’ll be great!” He vibrated with excitement. “With his, somewhat unwilling, endorsement I'll be able to overcharge so much more." He seemed to suddenly remember he wasn't alone. "Only fair prices for you, of course. You and your... friend?"

The merchant's choice of words threw Din off a little. He wasn't sure what to call it yet. He'd come to trust him, yes, but other than that was unknown territory Din was uncertain how to negotiate his way across.

For the merchant, Din's silence seemed to be enough of an answer.

“Ah, say no more!” The merchant did something strange with his face. It looked like he was attempting to waggle his eyebrow ridges at Din.

“Where did you find it?” Din said, motioning to the holocron, eager to get it over with and to make the merchant stop doing whatever it was he was trying to do.

"Back to business, I like that," the merchant said. "I found it outside of town. In the abandoned mine. Usually there's not much to find there but there's been a flood recently. Very troublesome for us but it did manage to flush out some interesting stuff. I explored one of the old tunnels and found it washed up not too far in."

“Did the Empire do something down in those mines?” Din asked, remembering Boba’s words to him before they left the station.

“No, those veins got depleted long before the Empire got here.” The merchant’s shoulders slumped and he went on with much quieter voice. "Didn’t stop the Empire from sending our people down there to make sure. Few came back. We didn’t like to go near that place before but now… “

“I’m sorry."

The merchant's smile was a no more than a shadow of the previous big grin.

"I don't know what you’re looking for, it's your business, but those tunnels go deep underground. They connect to other systems that in turn connects to even older tunnels. No one knows anymore how far the old tunnels go." The merchant leaned over to the counter and whispered; "Pretty sure it's haunted too."

"I appreciate the warning," Din said. He didn't believe in ghosts, there were worse things in the galaxy to fear.

**

Something about Boba had changed. Din didn't have much to compare his current behavior with but he could see it, even if Boba seemed reluctant to admit it. 

Din doubted anyone else would've noticed it. Least of all the people Boba still scared off with nothing more than a look. He wasn't that different from what Din had observed during their initial confrontations. Every movement and action controlled and precise. He carried his reputation well and instilled more fear in people than Din had ever managed.

But whenever Din caught Boba looking at him or the child, it didn't inspire anything in the way of fear or even wariness at this point. It was difficult to pin down exactly what it was. Boba seemed to have a new sort of calm to him. Not that he'd been the complete opposite before, but it was as if something in Boba had unwound.

Din wondered when he had started to consider himself an expert on the behavior of the galaxy’s most infamous bounty hunter.

He finished up the re-calibrations of the _Razor Crest’s_ systems. From the hold, he could hear the muffled sounds of joy from the child. When he made his way to them, he found Boba sitting with his back against the wall. His helmet laid discarded on the floor.

Boba looked up when Din entered the hold, his expression somewhat guilty.

“Don't do that," Din said.

“What?” Boba’s response did in no way convince Din that the man didn’t know exactly what Din was referring to.

Reading the room, the child grabbed the frog and swallowed it down with impressive speed.

"Where did you even get them?” Din said, unable to hold back his frustration as Boba presented the child with yet another frog.

"Found a vendor who sold them when I was out scouting." Boba rubbed the back of his neck. "They were having a sale. Kept frozen, so they're good."

“It’s alive.” Din could see the frog come round, jerky movements that wouldn’t stop it from ending up like so many unfortunate amphibians before it.

“Can’t get any fresher than that,” Boba said. He stared straight at Din as he handed the kid the last frog. “What’s the harm? He likes it.”

Din hadn’t expected that explaining the concept of set meal times to Boba Fett would be something he would have to do in his life. Routine wasn’t always easy to apply on the life Din led but he remembered it being an important part of his training in the Fighting Corps. That was his only source of how to do this. How to be a father, for as long as that might be.

“He also likes to try disengaging the ship engine while we’re in hyperspace,” Din said. “Doesn’t mean I let him do it.”

Instead of looking worried at the idea of being violently torn out of hyperspace, Boba raised his eyebrows and looked at the kid. "You're a real troublemaker, aren't you?" He gently bumped the child with the back of his hand.

The child took this as an invitation to grab onto Boba’s hand and hug it tight. Boba made a low sound like he was in pain. Din smirked at that. There hadn't been a sound ot of Boba after he'd almost blown himself up but this was apparently more than he could handle. It made getting ganged up on a little more bearable. Boba extracted his hand from the death grip with a gentleness Din wouldn’t have believed him capable of, if he hadn't seen it firsthand.

“I need to show you something," Din said.

Boba frowned when Din brought out the holocron. He crouched down and held it out for the child to take from him. The child’s brows furrowed as he concentrated. His small hands moved across the surface of the metallic cube, following a pattern Din couldn't understand.

Boba's eyes were wide as the metal split apart, shards shifting and re-aligning themselves into a different form. The map unfurled all around them, casting a light without source that created flickering shadows on the wall of the hold.

Din stood up again. "I think it wants us, the child, to go there," he said, indicating the bright spot at the map's center.

Boba's frown deepened. " _It wants_?" His eyes searched the map, going from planet to planet, constellation to constellation. "You can't even tell where it is or how to get there."

"It's somewhere in or close to Wild Space."

"Doesn't give us much to go on," Boba said. "That's why we're going to mines?"

“Yes.”

Din knew it was more of a fool's errand than anything else but it was the only lead he had. Somehow it seemed a little less hopeless now. Despite his clear misgivings of anything relating to the holocron, Boba didn't hesitate at all at the use of 'us' and 'we'. He was with Din now. Someone Din had reasons to trust, someone to talk to.

"These symbols looks like letters." Din pointed to a different part of the map. "Could be some form of Basic but I can't make sense of it."

Boba got up to get a closer look.

"Hm, not like any version of Basic I've seen. See how the letters here are curved?" He pointed it out for Din. "To me that looks like Durese or Bothese."

"It's strange," Din said. "Sometimes when I look at it, it reminds me of Mando'a too."

"Don't know much about that." Boba's tone was curt. "Seems odd that the Jedi would have anything written in Mando’a."

Once again, Din felt like he was close to something important. It wasn't about any of the clashes between Mandalorians and Jedi throughout history that the Armorer had eluded to. There was something more personal when it came to Boba and his attitude to the Jedi. Din had tried to ask him outright, before they left the station for Deimos, only for Boba to dodge the question entirely.

Now, Din didn’t ask again but it still felt like Boba was avoiding something when he turned away from Din.

"Hey, kid." Boba cleared his throat. The child stopped trying to grab the glowing stars the map showed and gave Boba his full attention. "Can you put it together again for me?"

It took some effort, usually the map resealed itself when the child tired out but now he did it without hesitation.

"The parts aren't moving like they should," Boba said as the final pieces slipped into place.

“You can tell?"

"I've only seen one of these opened before now. It wasn't exactly the same but the way the parts moved looked different. This one looks like it's off balance,” Boba said. “Could be damaged.”

Din hadn’t noticed anything like that. The cube had been odd in itself and he had nothing to compare it to. Unlike Boba, he'd never met a Jedi. Or killed one.

"Hard to forget seeing something like that," Boba said with a distant look in his eyes. "My first big job for the Empire."

Boba looked up at Din. He didn't look at him with regret or sorrow. It was something else that Din couldn't pin down. He couldn’t change anything Boba had done in the past, just like he couldn't undo any of his own mistakes. Right and then there, Din hoped he could make Boba see that the past didn’t have to determine everything. Din had chosen a new path, a path he wasn’t convinced he deserved yet but if he could chose to change then so could Boba. There was moment when he thought Boba would say more but the sound of the holocron clattering to the floor brought both of them out of it.

The child slumped down and Boba was right by him in an instant, gathering him up.

"What's wrong with him?" Boba asked, worry etched on his face.

"He needs a nap," Din said. "Opening the map tires him out."

"Good thing I gave him a snack before." The look on Boba's face could only be described as insufferable. Then he seemed to realize that, once again, he was stuck with a sleeping child in his arms. "Should... should I put him down somewhere?"

"He looks comfortable to me."

Din wasn't petty but there was some enjoyment to be had at the expense of Boba and his sudden awkwardness. For a little while at least.

**

"I can take care of the supplies we need for our little excursion," Boba said after Din decided to show mercy. 

He'd tucked the child away in the little den he'd set up for him in the cubbyhole.

"We'll need a couple of speeders too," Boba went on.

Din nodded. The merchant had already suggested a place to get transportation to the old quarry and mines. If the prices weren't too outrageous, Din didn't see a reason to not go with the merchant's first choice.

"Try haggling this time," Boba suggested, ever so helpful. "That Weequay would've skinned you if I hadn't been there." 

His wry smile created fine lines that didn’t look like they ever had a chance to set permanently on his face. It created contradictory feelings in Din.

“I know how to haggle." Din crossed his arms and stared Boba down. “Didn’t exactly give me a chance to.”

“Eh, my way was quicker. Told you I could be useful." 

“Yes. I’ve never seen anyone lean on a counter menacingly,” Din deadpanned.

Boba practically preened at that. "There's a trick to it. You'll learn when you get to be my age."

“We’re the same age.” At least, Din assumed it going by Boba’s appearance.

Boba stopped to look at Din, tilting his head and gave Din a very deliberate once-over.

"Could be," Boba conceded. "Still, I bet whatever it is you're hiding under that bucket is prettier than what I've got."

He gestured with a sardonic smile to the scars that marred his face, before he went past Din to grab his helmet from the floor. Some of those scars must have come from his encounter with the sarlacc, Din realized. The ones that looked like they'd caused the most pain. He'd gathered that Dengar had somehow helped Boba out back then. But the thought of Boba, alone with that pain out in the harsh deserts of Tatooine didn't sit right with Din.

Then Din registered what Boba had actually said and despite himself, Din could feel a flush creeping up on him. Somehow Boba knew it which made it worse.

"I'm not asking you to prove it," Boba said and Din caught his smirk before it was hidden by the helmet. "Let's leave it to my imagination."

Din only found his voice when Boba activated the ship’s ramp, starting the sequence to lower it.

"No frogs this time," Din said.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Boba replied as he sauntered off the ship.

Din watched him go. It was nothing new to him, wild speculations about what he looked like beneath the helmet. Xi'an had been particularly fond of implying that she knew, her voice cloying as she hinted about how the helmet hid one thing or the other. Good and bad. There had almost been a possessiveness to it. Annoyance that Din kept a part of himself secret.

He'd never cared enough about the attempts to rile him up to say something about it. It had always been better to ignore it. His silence had sometimes been seen as provoking as the fact that Din never revealed his face. It made people like Xi'an push harder.

Boba had never seemed put off by Din's silence. Quite the opposite almost, it was like he enjoyed it. He didn't shy away from trying to wind Din up but he didn't even play at pushing it any further, satisfied with what Din was willing to give.

**

They got an early start the next day. Before they got on the speeders, Din used his cape to wrap the child up, fastening him securely to himself. After some consideration, he put the hat Manaroo had gifted them on the child as well. It fit perfectly, with enough space for the ears. When Din was ready to go, he found Boba leaning against his speeder and staring at them

"Could get cold."

Din wasn't sure why he needed to defend himself. It was a ridiculous hat but sensible considering the strong winds.

"Hm. I've never said this before but... " Boba sounded genuinely conflicted. "That's adorable."

It was hard to tell if he was joking or not.

When they reached the edge of the quarry, it was only late morning. The place was desolate, hardly any vegetation except some thorny shrubs and few patches of yellowish grass. Some kind of critter scampered away before Din got a good look at it when they got off the speeders.

From where they stood, several paths led down to the bottom of the quarry. Running alongside the steep walls in a zigzag pattern. Before making their way down. Din did a final check of their supplies. He made an interesting discovery and held it up to Boba for inspection.

“Oh, that?” Boba said blithely and took thermal detonator from Din's hand to store it away in one of the pouches hanging from his belt. "We agreed I could have one."

Din said nothing and Boba squirmed a little.

“It’s a small one,” he said.

Din might not have gotten hang on how to make leaning on a counter quite as menacing as Boba made it yet, but he had his own tricks. He continued to look at Boba, still not saying anything.

Boba sighed. “If I promise that I'll save it for a special occasion, will you stop doing that?" He held up one hand as if taking an oath. "No unnecessary explosions."

“No disintegrations either,” Din said. Then he considered it and amended his statement. “No _unnecessary_ disintegrations.”

“If I had a credit for every time I heard that… “ Boba grumbled. “No unnecessary destruction, I swear.”

“Or killing.”

"Since you asked nicely." The timber of his voice gave Din no trouble imagining the sly look on Boba's face beneath the helmet. "You're bossy."

Boba's new goal in life seemed to be throwing Din off his stride anyway he could. It exasperated Din how familiar it had become. Without another word, Din turned around and started to make the trek down with Boba trailing after him.

At the bottom of the quarry there wasn't much more to see then what Din had seen from above. It was like a canyon with its rocky walls around them, stretching towards the grey skies. What had been left behind after what must have been a long period of activity had long since turned rusty and worn down by wind and weather.

They easily found the entrance to the tunnel the merchant had dared to explore and discovered the holocron. He'd marked it out for Din when he gave him the general coordinates for the quarry. Din paused by the tunnel’s entrance, he waited for Boba who stopped to stand by his side. The morning light didn't reach far into the dark tunnel.

"We'll follow the same path the merchant took," Din told Boba. "Not that he got very far."

"And then?"

Hopefully they would find something after the trouble they'd gone through for this. Something that would help the child, would help Din to make sure he could be safe. Hopefully that something wouldn't get them killed.

"We try to go as far as we can, marking our way," Din said.

"You sure we should bring the kid with us?" Boba leaned over to wiggle his fingers at the child still wrapped up in Din's cape, letting him try grabbing them. "There's still time to give Dengar a call."

"He's the only one who can... sense whatever it is we need to find." Din smiled as the child babbled with joy as he finally caught Boba's hand. "And I think Dengar suffered enough for now."

Boba laughed. “Not nearly enough.”

“Should I worry that this is how you treat your friends?”

“Dengar’s not my friend,” Boba said. It sounded like an automatic response. "And no need to worry, it's different with you."

That last part didn't sound as well rehearsed and Boba did a poor job of concealing of how intently he was watching for Din's reaction to it. But he didn't demand more from Din. When Din gave him nothing, he had always backed off. Now Din found himself willing to give him more.

“It’s not that bad,” Din said.

“The tunnel?” Boba sounded confused, turning to look at the tunnel entrance and then back to Din. "I'm not superstitious, if that's what you mean. I don't believe in ghost stories a Weequay comes up with to make himself look good to his drinking buddies.”

"I meant your scars," Din said. "They're not that bad, there are things that are more important."

“My sparkling personality?”

“Not the word I’d use.”

"Fair enough." Boba was quiet for a bit. "I don't think about them much, didn't think you would either. You don't exactly have much experience judging other people's faces."

“I can still notice things.”

“Notice things,” Boba repeated slowly. “Like what?”

Din considered the question for longer than Boba seemed to be comfortable with.

“Your smile,” Din finally said. “Among other things.”

Boba sounded like he was doing something halfway between laughing and choking.

“You put a lot of thought into that,” Boba said after he recovered.

“Hard not to."

With that said, Din went ahead and it took a few seconds before he heard the hurried steps of Boba following behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things brings me joy: Baby Yoda eating frogs like there’s no tomorrow and Din’s DIY Babybjörn.


	12. Interiora Terrae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m a little chocked that I’ve passed 50 000 words for this fic. Thank you all! Every comment and kudos means the world to me!

Din’s armor was temperature-regulating to some extent but the mine was like walking right into a hot and muggy day. But whenever they stopped to do a spot check with the battered oxygen monitor Boba had managed to hunt down, the levels were relatively stable. Whatever fumes and gases the digging might’ve freed from the rock had long since dissipated.

Following the path the merchant had marked out, they descended into the mine. Stagnate water, pooled in crevices, was the only sign of the tunnel being flooded recently. The old mining structures were still functioning due to being used not that long ago. Not that Empire had splurged on restoring the scaffoldings. It was clear exactly what value the Empire had put on the people they'd forced down the mine.

The first mining hoist they found had shuddered and groaned its way down through the narrow shaft. Din gripped the railing tight in the cramped cabin. Meanwhile, the child, still securely fastened against Din, didn’t seem worried at all. He seemed to especially enjoy the bumpier parts of the journey down. When the lift jerked to a stop, Boba joined in with a whoop of his own before he kicked the jammed lift gate open.

“After you,” Boba said, with an exaggerated flourish of his hands.

It was with some trepidation that Din had allowed himself to enjoy working with someone again. He wasn’t social by nature but growing up in the tribe had taught him the value of having good people by his side. Along with the lesson how quickly you could lose those who had chosen to take up your fight.

“You know, I can tell that you’re rolling your eyes at me,” Boba said as he sauntered out of the lift after Din.

Din marched on, ignoring the throaty laugh his lack of response seemed to provoke. It was a startling realization of how fast he’d become accustomed to having Boba by his side.

When they reached the end of the merchant’s exploration, it ended quite literally at a crossroads. Boba leaned against the tunnel wall, placing himself right in the middle of where the tunnel split into two.

He watched Din with his chin raised and arms crossed. “Now what?”

Din took a few steps towards one of the possible ways they could take but stopped when he felt the child stir against him. He looked down and met the child’s gaze.

Din sighed and pointed towards the other tunnel. "That one.”

Boba shrugged and pushed back from the wall. “Not like I’ve got a better suggestion,” he said and took out a piece of chalk to draw a clear mark on the wall by the tunnel the kid had decided on. 

When the light from his helmet hit the bright color, it lit up, and as they both passed it the mark retained a dim glow. It would be enough for when they needed to find their way back without getting lost.

**

Din was surprised the kid kept quiet for so long before he started to squirm. By then, they’d managed to put what could be called a day’s march between them and their starting point, given the oppressive heat in the mine.

They found a section of the mining tunnel that made for a good spot to rest up before continuing. Although the child was more interested in stretching his legs than getting any rest, unlike Din and Boba. His attempts to “help” Din free him from the confinements of the cape almost resulted in Din dropping him.

Din let him wander off on his own while he set up their simple camp, if it could even be called that. He kept an eye on the child while he packed up the ration bars. Though he didn’t go any further than the edge of the light from the small lantern they brought with them.

Boba caught the ration bar Din tossed. Din picked one for himself and then waved another in the child's direction.

“Hey, womp rat,” Din called. “Dinner time.”

The child scrunched up his face at the offered meal before he deigned to waddle over to where Din had seated himself, cross legged on the ground. Din picked him up and once he settled, his head resting against Din’s knee, the child accepted the ration bar without much fuss. Boba hadn’t managed to spoil him rotten yet, Din thought with a smirk.

Which reminded Din of something he’d forgotten to consider. There was nowhere he could keep himself out of sight in their well-lit corner of the mine. He could wait until the child finished eating and then hide himself away in the dark to eat his own ration. Not the most appealing idea but there weren’t many other options.

Din jumped in surprise when Boba dropped himself down on the ground with a small grunt, right behind him, his back pressed against Din’s. He heard the tell-tale sound of Boba unsealing his helmet and out the corner of his eye, he saw him place the helmet next to him.

Boba didn’t say anything about it when Din removed his helmet as well.

They ate in silence. The quiet hum from the lantern blanketing them, making the groans of massive rock shifting over their heads less intrusive. Still, Din didn’t mind it when Boba started talking.

“So, besides opening your magic box,” Boba said. “Can the kid do anything else?”

“He suspended a mudhorn in mid-air once,” Din offered.

"That's when you got your signet?"

“Yes.” Din took another bite of his ration. He thought about it while he chewed and then said; "He can choke people with his mind too."

He could feel Boba go completely still against his back.

"He's killed someone?" Boba seemed undecided if this was horrifying or impressive.

“No!” Din hurried to say. “He was confused. It was a friend."

“Confused? How?”

“We were arm-wrestling," Din explained.

“Arm-wrestling?”

“Yes.”

“Arm-wrestling,” Boba repeated, sounding inexplicably delighted. “Do you think we could ever... _arm-wrestle_?”

Din frowned. "Yes?"

"Because, I've been thinking," Boba went on with an airy tone. "There's still that one favor you owe me.”

It was almost a mercy that Din didn’t have to see the expression on Boba’s face. He was sure it would’ve annoyed him.

“I could even let you keep your helmet on for it,” Boba added.

Din knew how to find the soft spots in the cracks of an armor. Even without looking, his elbow found its target with enough force to make Boba choke on his words.

Boba snickered, a little out of breath but it didn’t seem like he minded. “Touchy.”

In Din’s lap, the child peered up at him and Din smiled back, but the child’s attention was quickly diverted by the muffled rustling coming from behind Din. His ears perked up, almost quivering as he listened.

“It’s not a frog this time,” Boba said as he dropped something with bright colors over Din’s shoulder without turning around.

The child grabbed it before Din could do anything.

“Hm.” Din watched the kid unwrap the garish thing, the crinkling paper seemed to be just as interesting as what was inside.

“If he can eat live frogs and those ration bars, then he can eat candy.” Boba’s confidence wavered. “I mean, it’s up to you but- “

“He did finish his dinner this time,” Din said diplomatically.

“Right.” Boba sounded relieved. “That’s how it’s supposed to be, isn’t it?”

Din didn’t have an answer for that. He didn’t know how it was supposed to be.

“Did you… “ Din started but the words in his head turned clunky and awkward. He tried again. "Did your father?"

Boba had only spoken about his father in off-hand comments. Never saying anything specific and always avoiding giving a real answer. Din was starting to see how the few pieces he’d been given fit together. Still, it wasn’t his place to ask or to know if Boba didn’t want him to. Even this could’ve been asking for too much.

As Din tried to find something else to say, all thoughts were brought to a sudden halt when Boba leaned his head back against his. The unfamiliar, warm weight against his scalp made Din’s skin crawl. A creeping sensation that felt like an itch and it scattered his thoughts every which way. Din fought off the urge to shudder.

“Sometimes,” Boba said, answering the question Din hadn’t been able to form completely. “He’d usually bring something back with him after finishing a job. If it was candy, I didn’t have to finish my dinner first.”

Din could hear the smile in Boba’s voice. He could almost see the look on his face as if Boba had been sitting right in front of him.

“Once he brought me a model ship. A Corellian Interceptor.” The memory of it seemed to make Boba as excited now as it had made him so many years ago. “But it I liked it more when I was old enough to go with him.”

Boba paused for a beat.

“And if I did well on a job, I could still get something sweet before dinner. Dad could be a real pushover.”

Din grinned. “A pushover?”

“That's not what's happening here." Stern as he tried to make his voice, Boba's words had no sting whatsoever. "I'm clearly bribing the kid. Slowly turning him against you."

“Yes," Din said. "Clearly.”

The target of Boba’s bribes had fallen asleep. Din stared up at the darkness all around them. With the light from the lantern, it seemed like a strange and starless sky, hiding them away from the rest of the galaxy. The circle of light around them a temporary sanctuary. A place out of time.

"That stuff didn’t matter though. I didn’t care if he brought anything back with him. I just wanted him to come back,” Boba said. “I think I still do.”

Din could feel Boba press closer to him, as if to make sure Din was still there. Din shifted his weight to lean back more heavily against Boba. He could feel the tension leave his shoulders.

“He’s still with you if you remember him,” Din said.

It was so easy to find his way back to this. Like it was something they’d shared for far longer than they actually had. That it had always been there, only Din had never known to look for it.

"I don't remember much from before the war. What it was like. Who I was. My parents… ” Din let out a harsh breath. “They died for me and I can’t remember who they were. I wish I did because I think that’s what I want for him. I want him to have what I had before I knew it could be taken away.”

Because the child was Din’s, in a way Din had never been anyone’s since his parents died. Even though he wasn’t sure he deserved to call the child his.

“You’re still here,” Boba said. “I think we both know that’s more than enough.”

Din couldn’t say anything, because there was nothing he wanted to be true more than that. Boba nudged Din in the back with his elbow.

“Kids have low standards. So you’re probably doing great,” Boba said. “But if you’re looking for suggestions, I’m pretty sure _womp rat_ isn’t the best name you could’ve come up with for the kid.”

“That’s not his name,” Din muttered.

"Good. It would’ve made him an easy target.”

Din could more feel than hear the deep sigh behind him. 

"Why haven't you given him a name?"

“I can’t,” Din said. "Not yet."

The child shivered in his sleep. Careful not to wake him, Din picked him up and placed him on the cape folded up next to him, pulling the worn cloth over him. Behind him, Din could feel Boba shift against his back.

"You're a clan, aren't you?" Boba said. "No amounts of frogs or candy I manage to smuggle the kid's way is going to change that.”

Without thinking, Din reached up to touch the signet on his pauldron before he could reply; "Giving him a name carries a lot of weight."

"Oh, I know what a name can carry with it. Mine gave me a legacy." Boba said. "A legacy that almost ended up becoming sarlacc food.”

It took a moment for Boba to find his voice again.

“I never doubted that I was Jango Fett’s son but… “ He gave mirthless laugh. “Do you know what he called them?”

That laugh had been so different from what Din had become used to hearing. It wasn’t the sharp bark of laughter. The one that always seemed to surprise Boba himself as much as it surprised Din the first time he heard it. This laugh seemed to be at Boba’s own expense.

"Called who?" Din asked quietly. The silence that followed made his words sound harsh.

Seconds ticked by before Boba replied; "The clones."

The reassuring weight against Din’s back disappeared as Boba sat up straight. The sudden distance between them left Din cold. 

"The _other_ clones,” Boba went on in a hollow voice. “He called them livestock. They called each other brother. They called me that too, before they figured out what I was.”

__

Much of Din’s memories before the Mandalorians found him had been obscured by the war. Fire and fear blotting out everything that had been good. He remembered hushed and frightened voices speaking over his head. Discarded propaganda posters. Brief clips on the Holonet. Different kinds of soldiers but in his memories it became muddled. The Republic. The Separatists. It didn’t hold any real meaning to him, not then and not now.

“What are you saying?” Din said but he knew.

He hadn’t known when Boba first removed his helmet like it was nothing. But he remember how strangely familiar that face had been. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to connect his disjointed memories with the man at his back.

“The thing about clones is that you need a template to copy. They paid well for a sample from Jango Fett,” Boba said. “I'm what they paid him with.”

He spoke with an urgency now, but his voice was low and raspy like he was trying to fight it.

“One unaltered clone. Jango Fett's son, his legacy. First pick from a batch of ready-made soldiers. Switch out a few genes, add a little brainwashing and I could've been a trooper among millions."

Din heard the hiss from a sudden sharp intake of breath, followed by Boba clamping his jaw shut with an audible click of teeth.

Years of experience had taught Din to never hesitate and he moved before he realized what he was doing. His helmet still at his side. He’d forgotten. In the seconds it took Din to grab it, Boba was already gone from his side when Din turned around.

“I'll take first watch,” Boba said with his back still towards Din. As he walked off into the dark, he put his own helmet back on.

Din watched him, barely there in the far reaches of the lantern light. Boba, who had never pushed for more than what Din was willing to give. Always testing and only daring to take another step if he sensed a freely given opportunity to do so. He might not have had the words to ease the kind of grief he heard in Boba’s voice. He didn’t know if those even existed. But while Din had measured out the territory he’d been willing to give, he’d never considered that Boba would need him to push back.

He might have lacked the words but in that moment he’d known that he had to see him, to see Boba. Because even if removing his helmet could never hold the same meaning for Boba as it did for Din, it didn’t mean the act had been without meaning. Boba had said the helmet was his real face and Din could understand that. What Boba had revealed was more than merely his face. Din had seen someone he wanted to protect, even if Boba wouldn’t let him.

**

What made a good bounty hunter wasn't always perseverance and vigilance. Those skills helped of course, but sometimes, what truly made a difference was knowing when to rest and the ability to switch off when needed.

There was a roar inside Boba's head. It only got louder when he closed his eyes. He couldn't make it stop.

"Let's go."

The Mando jolted when Boba spoke up. "You didn't- " he began but Boba cut him off.

"It's fine," he said, picking up what little they needed to bring with them. He didn't give the Mando much time before he took the lead, pressing on deeper into the mine.

The sweltering tunnel felt more oppressive than before with the pace Boba set for himself. The Mando said nothing as Boba got further ahead from them. He didn’t even try to speak over the short range comm as they marched on. What was there to say anyway?

A cool gust of air hit him before Boba actually saw it. Right where the mining tunnel made a sharp turn to the left, the tunnel wall had cracked open. It looked like a wound. As he got closer, Boba could feel the temperature starting to drop. Cool air seemed to flow out of the opening in the wall and at the same time, any warmth in the mine seemed to be swallowed up. Almost like the dark gash in the rock was breathing.

It was another tunnel, branching off in the opposite direction of the mining tunnel they were currently exploring. It looked nothing like anything they’d seen of Deimos’ underground. Not here and not under the spaceport. A natural cave by the looks of it and instead of the earthy hues of the rock in the mine, the cave rock was obsidian black.

Stepping over the threshold of the cave was like plunging into dark and icy water. At first, Boba didn’t feel anything. Then the cold gripped him like a vice. For a second Boba thought he couldn’t breathe before his mind caught up with him and he forced himself to inhale and exhale slowly. The light from his helmet flickered momentarily and seemed to struggle to cut through the darkness inside the cave.

A quiet whimper made Boba turn to look back. The Mando had caught up with him but stopped a few paces away from the crack. The child had burrowed his face into the beskar chestplate, his ears drawn back. The Mando spoke to him in a hushed voice, holding the child closer to him.

"Wait here," Boba said. "I'll take a look."

He turned back. The darkness shifted within the cave, a trick of the light but it made something throb behind his eyes. Boba took another step further in and was brought to an immediate halt by a firm grip around his wrist.

The Mando tugged him back, out of the cave. "Not alone." He didn’t let go.

Boba could only stand there as the Mando brought his other hand up to curl around the side of his neck. The grip was light, like the one around Boba’s wrist. There was nothing stopping him from pulling away.

A small movement made Boba glance down, the only reason he could break away from staring right into that blank visor. The kid was watching him with worried eyes, his long ears still almost completely flat against his head.

"Alright." Boba raised his hand and let the kid grab a hold of it, his hands impossibly small against Boba’s.

The grip around his wrist tightened for a second and Boba's head jerked up. As the Mando let go of him, Boba felt the light touch of a thumb drawing a half-circle against the hollow of his throat. The Mando stepped past Boba without a word.

The Mando put a mark by the entrance and then through the mouth of the cave. He didn’t even shiver as he did so. A heavy feeling settled in Boba’s chest as he followed the Mando’s lead. His movements were slow and stepping back into the cave felt like trying to move under water. The cold seemed to find its way through the gaps of his armor.

Nothing around them seemed to change as they walked. The tunnel kept going with no end in sight. The floor and walls were even, parts of it almost had a polished look to it. Like black glass. At times the walls turned jagged, with sharp rocky outcroppings. Here, Boba could suddenly feel the stone and dirt pressing in on all sides.

The only thing that helped to ground his sense of time passing was the incessant throbbing. It'd spread through his skull the deeper they went into the cave. Boba stopped in his tracks and tried to blink the pain away. Every time he did, the light from the Mando up ahead seemed to get dimmer and further away. He didn’t even seem to notice that Boba wasn’t following him anymore.

There would be no better opportunity than now and so Boba turned his light toward his wrist. He found exactly what he’d expected to find. A small metallic disc sat right at the edge of his gauntlet. It detached without a problem and Boba let it drop into the palm of his hand. It was almost cute that the Mando thought Boba wouldn’t notice when someone tried to tag him.

Real cute.

Smart of him to try, though. Boba had done a good job of setting himself up for it. He’d been careless and it had been so easy to fool himself. Thinking he was someone the Mando could trust. Maybe he’d fooled the Mando as well, until he made it clear that beneath his helmet there was nothing to see.

Only the face Boba shared with his father. With the millions of soldiers who died useless deaths for a galaxy that didn’t care. If there had ever been anything that had been only Boba’s, he’d burned it all away.

Boba closed his hand tightly around the tracker. He stared at the spot where he’d last seen the flickering light from the Mando. At least he thought he had. With only his own light, it was hard to determine which way he’d come from and where he’d been going. He let the light sweep over the cave walls, trying to find anything that could guide him.

The beam of light hit a spot on the wall opposite Boba. The smooth black stone marred by shallow gouges. Three lines running parallel of each other stood out clearly when he stepped closer and focused the light. It was a very familiar sight.

So the Empire had found something of interest to them down in the mine after all. Something they either managed to capture here or lured back to their secret base under the spaceport. From what Boba had seen, it made even more sense now why so few of the people forced down into the mines had made it back.

The question was if it had died when the Empire abandoned Deimos or if they hadn’t bothered with tying up loose ends. The claw marks on the wall could be old but the underground passageways seemed to reach further than anyone could've guessed. Whatever it was, it could've found its way back to its old hunting grounds.

The short range comm crackled to life and the Mando’s voice came through; “I found something.”

For a moment, Boba considered telling him about his own discovery. But Jango Fett had made his choices and so had Boba. He still had a few left to make and maybe it wouldn’t be the legacy his dad had envisioned but Boba would make sure it was one he could call his own.

“On my way,” he replied.

Boba opened up his hand, took one last look at the tracker before he dropped it to the ground and swiftly crushed it under his heel.


	13. Approaching death

Din couldn’t really feel the cold. It ripped through every layer he wore and went straight to settling deep in his bones. But there was no numbness and if he took off his helmet, Din doubted he would see his breath hanging in the air. 

More than anything, he could feel the cold inside his head. Sharp and biting. It only got worse when he saw the dim light at the end of the tunnel. The child huddled closer against his chest, quiet in a way he hadn’t been before. Din kept a hand curled around the small bundle of warmth. The rise and fall of every breath he took, seemed to make the icy fog in Din’s head less sharp as they approached the light.

At the end of the tunnel was large circular chamber, cut right out of the black stone. Unlike the strange tunnel, it was clear someone had made it this way. If it had been done at the same time or after the mining tunnels, Din couldn’t tell. But the chamber was nothing like the blunt practicality of the mining tunnels. Whoever decided on the design hadn’t settled for anything less than imposing, if a somewhat austere.

It seemed to be some sort of entryway with several roughly arched portals lined up along the curved wall. They were evenly spaced. Big enough that if Din had decided to bring a whole posse of Gamorreans and Wookies with him, they wouldn’t have had any trouble getting through all at once. There were no discernable difference between them, other than the different directions they led to. Five in total. Where they led, Din couldn’t make out or guess.

The light at the end of the tunnel Din had first seen turned out to have a natural source. Or rather, it seemed natural as far as Din could tell although he’d never seen anything like it before. It looked like sap had burst out of the cracks in the wall. Petrifying into crystalline structures that now glowed with a faint light. A sickly yellow that made the shadows waiting beyond each portal more foreboding than the compact darkness.

“Which way now?”

Din had barely noticed Boba arriving, as if the strange glow dulled his senses. But even now, with Boba right beside him there was something missing. When Boba had leaned against his back, Din had been aware of every movement, every breath and each little change. Now Boba seemed so far away, close but still out of reach.

As Din considered Boba’s question, he recalled the old sewer systems on Nevarro. A maze for those who didn’t know which path to follow. If this was the same, Din suspected it was a maze where getting lost would be far worse. The child moved anxiously and he looked up at Din with fear in his eyes. It was the same way he’d looked at Din the moment it seemed like Boba would go on without them into the darkness.

“I don’t think he knows,” Din said. “Not here.”

Boba scoffed before turning his attention to the different paths that laid before them.

They should turn back. Everything about this place was wrong. There was nothing stopping Din from suggesting it. If not for the sense that if he left now, Boba wouldn’t. That whatever bond growing between them had started to fray in those few seconds Din had hesitated to speak. Now the darkness swallowed up each thought before Din could even begin turning them into words.

Then there was the strange urge to keep going. A wordless thought that Din didn't know where it came from. It felt grating and goading. It wasn't curiosity. It was an unexplainable need to see what the darkness was hiding. Making him take one step after the other in spite of the somehow knowing that whatever was down here, it wasn’t anything Din wanted to find.

He wondered if Boba could feel it too but once again, Boba was already walking away from him before Din could think about what to say.

"Let's try this one," Boba said, pointing towards the portal right in the middle.

He didn’t stop to see if Din followed him.

**

This time they didn’t have to explore for long before coming upon another interesting architectural find. The tunnel started to slope downwards before it turned into a stairway, carved into the rocky floor of the tunnel. Each step was wide and high, easing the way down only marginally.

It led them to yet another cavernous space, this one less polished than the first and it looked more like an actual cavern than any sort of chamber. At the foot of the stairway, a narrow river ran past. Although it could barely be called that. The water moved sluggishly and by the stairs, it was shallow enough to wade through. 

There were more of those glowing rocks here, bleeding out of the cracked walls. The weak yellow light reflected in the green water. It illuminated enough of the cavern for Din to see where the water was coming from and where it was going. The slow-moving stream ran from a dark tunnel, across the cavern and disappeared into yet another tunnel at the opposite side.

On the other side of the stream, across from where they first entered, there were more arched portals carved out. Din didn’t bothered counting them this time because placed right between two portals was something much more interesting. Or ominous, depending on how prone you were to superstition.

On a raised plinth, made out of the same black rock as everything else, rested a large sarcophagus. Boba stared at it for a few seconds before he turned to look at Din, as if to make sure they were seeing the same thing.

“Guess this is the reasons for those rumors about the mines being haunted,” Din said, his tone more cavalier than the feelings the sight of the tomb inspired.

“Roomier than the tombs I’ve seen,” Boba muttered. “Although, I’ve seen more bodies than actual graves.”

Din made a noncommittal noise of agreement as he pushed aside his initial apprehension and moved closer to the sarcophagus. There were pools of stagnate water trapped in large cracks and dips in the rocky cavern floor, like in the mine. Here some of them looked much deeper and Din stepped around them with care.

He could hear Boba following him but dragging his feet, falling behind yet again. As Din got closer to the sarcophagus, the shadowy portals seemed to beckon. The dark shadows almost writhing as Din’s light passed over them. The child remained eerily quiet and still against him.

An effigy adorned the lid of the sarcophagus. Time had washed away its features, leaving behind a vague shape that could've been anyone or anything in life. But before Din could study it any further, there was a loud splash behind him.

"Looks like we're not the first grave robbers who got here," Boba called out. He was using a line to drag something submerged in one of the deeper looking pools of water. Once he got it out, he dropped it with little care.

He found a body.

Din was by his side in an instant. It was a Bothan. If Din only judged it by her appearance, she couldn’t have been dead or in the water for long. Her fur was slicked back and darkened by the water, her golden mane plastered over her face and long snout.

She wore a brown tabard and draped over her shoulders was a cloak in the same drab color. It made the embroidery with bright red thread along the collar of the tabard all the more eye-catching. The design was childlike in its simplicity, curved symbols and whimsical squiggles in no clear pattern.

"She was one of them,” Boba said as he knelt by the body. “Jedi.”

Din could only take Boba’s word for it. Her clothing was a little odd but nothing that would’ve made Din look at her twice if he'd seen her anywhere else. She wasn’t what he would’ve imagined these legendary sorcerers to be. To be fair, he’d imagined, or hoped, that he would’ve found one of them still alive.

“How long do you think she’s been here?” Din said. "Doesn't look like anyone's been here for a very long time.”

If it hadn't been for the deep slash across her chest, she would've almost looked peaceful. The gash was deep but there was no blood on her clothes. Like the final strike had cauterized the wound in the same instant it killed her.

"Whatever it is that runs through this rock, it's ine the water too." Boba brushed a hand over the cloak, yellowish residue stuck to the material of his glove. It was the same hue as the glowing rocks in the walls. “Could be what kept her looking like the day she died. Which could’ve been last week, could be years ago.”

The child reached towards the dead Bothan with a whimper. Din didn't know the scope of what he could to do yet, still he suspected that this was beyond any power in the galaxy. He hushed the child, trying to calm him down.

“Do you think the holocron belonged to her?”

Boba shrugged. “Maybe. Or she came down here to steal it from whoever that was,” he said and gestured at the sarcophagus.

Somehow Din didn't think that was the case. The holocron didn't feel like it belonged here anymore than they or the dead Bothan did. It was hard to think that anything the child would create such a strong connection with belonged in a place like this.

The child finally stopped trying to reach out and turned away from the body, burrowing his face into Din’s chestplate. Din wondered if anyone had missed her. The solemn train of thoughts were cut off abruptly by Boba when he unceremoniously patted the body down and ripped the cloak aside. He grabbed something hanging from the belt around the tabard.

“We’re not grave robbers,” Din said.

"Not like she's going to need this anymore." Boba weighed the cylindrical object in his hand. It didn't look like anything special to Din. "And technically, can you even grave rob a grave robber?"

“If that’s why she came here,” Din said tersely. “Is that… what did you call it?”

“Lightsaber,” Boba said. “Could be useful. Been a while since I got my hands on one of these and she isn’t using it right now.” He clipped the lightsaber to his own belt without any hesitation.

Everything about Boba felt wrong, like everything else. It wasn’t the looting, Din was all for pragmatism when the situation called for it. Even if this felt more like finding a trophy than a possibly useful tool. Din doubted that thing could work after being in the water for who knew how long. It was something else. Din felt like he'd been closer to seeing the real Boba at that first encounter in the alley than what he was seeing now.

"Strange though, that it was still clipped to her belt." Boba made a thoughtful sound and stood up again. "Looks like she was killed by a lightsaber but it doesn’t look like she even tried to defend herself with her own."

Din frowned. "You think she was killed by another Jedi?"

"Oh, there's lots of people who like to use these things," Boba said. “Not that we'll ever know for sure who did this." He didn’t sound like he cared much about it either way.

"Maybe she is what the holocron wanted us to find," Din said.

Boba dropped his head back and groaned. "Can we please stop talking about that thing like it has a mind of its own? This place is creeping me out enough as it is.”

Din smirked. "We can do that," he said and for a moment they were back to that unexpected feeling of being part of a whole. For a moment, Boba was within reach again. Familiar in the way Din had come to know him. Then Boba tensed up and the moment passed.

And Din didn’t know what to say, not yet, but he couldn’t hesitate again.

"What you said before,” Din began, his voice quiet.

Boba glanced down at the body by his feet and then back at Din. "You want to have a talk now?"

"I'm sure we've both had conversations like this before," Din countered, not letting Boba derail him. “Listen, about what you told me before- "

"What of it?" Boba snapped. "I don't need you to explain yourself. Not to me. I know what I am."

Boba straightened up, his hands balled up into fists. With his feet apart and the way he placed his weight, he looked quite ready to attack. But this time, Din couldn't back down. He had to see how far he could go.

"I don't know what you are," Din said. "I only know who you are."

Boba took a step back like Din had struck him, arms going slack. That worried Din more than Boba looking ready to throw a punch his way a few seconds ago.

“You don’t," Boba said, his voice hoarse. "You don't know that."

“You’re Boba.”

It wasn't the most elegant way to put it but Din didn't know how to say it in any other way.

“It’s not that simple.” Boba gestured between them. "This? This is nothing. Don't think this means you know me."

He wasn’t lying and had it been under different circumstances, Din would’ve paused to marvel at how easy it had become to find Boba’s tells. Instead, Din focused on the fact that while Boba wasn’t lying, he wasn’t telling the truth either. But he definitely seemed to be convinced that he was.

“All those stories you've heard about me, and I know you've heard them,” Boba sneered. “They're all true."

"Even the one about you turning into a krayt dragon when there's a full moon?"

Boba stared at Din. “What?”

Din shrugged. “Bounty hunter on Nevarro told me, swore it was true."

Din had never claimed to have a good sense of humor and this wasn't the best time put it to a test. If he was acting obtuse at this point, it was only to match Boba's own willful need to ignore what Din was trying to say. There was also something to be said about the satisfaction of seeing Boba lose the thread.

"Which moon?" Boba muttered. "There's a lot of them."

"He didn't specify,” Din said. “Passed out before I could ask.”

The other bounty had been drinking a lot and at the time, Din hadn’t cared about his stories. He’d only been talking to him because the bounty hunter had managed to amass enough unpaid cantina tabs to annoy a bartender enough to put a price out on his head. It had been one of the easier jobs Din had done.

"Would I have to be planetside or, no, wait.” Boba shook his head. "No, obviously I don’t mean that one. You know what I mean. I get people killed and I'm good at it."

“I know, I'm not half bad at it either,” Din said.

More than that, he was good at it. Even when he didn't want to be. There had been a lot of collateral damage in his life. Part of Din knew that it was demeaning to call it that. Kuiil and even the droid had deserved better than for Din to deny the choices they made that had led them to their end.

They deserved to be remembered for how they faced their paths coming to an end with honor. That didn’t stop Din from wondering if allowing Boba to come with him meant that he was leading him down the same path. That maybe letting Boba withdraw from whatever it was they had found with each other was the right thing to do. That it was selfish to want anything else. Anything more than this.

“But I don’t think you know what I mean,” Din went on because Boba had already given him so much without taking more than what Din gave back. He couldn’t let it go now.

"Yeah, maybe I don’t know what you mean." Boba made a show of dusting his gloves off from the leftover residue that stuck to them. “Could be that I know you as well as you know me."

He seemed to think the conversation over with that, turning his back to Din to look towards at the sarcophagus instead.

"You could know me. I would let you,” Din said. "I already have."

"That's your mistake,” Boba said in a low and hard voice.

“Yours too.”

Boba turned back, with one sharp and quick turn that almost looked involuntary. His shoulders were set high and he took one step closer to Din before he seemed to realize what he was doing and stopped.

"You told me you could've been one among millions but I never knew any of them,” Din said.

“Hard to,” Boba growled. “Most of them didn’t stay alive long enough to socialize.”

“No, I only know you. I know that there’s no creed or code that brought you here.” Din took the steps Boba hadn’t, moving closer to him. "And I know you're a pushover. You've let that slip."

Boba drew himself up imperiously, with what almost sounded like an offended huff.

"That's not- "

"Hold the kid, will you?"

“What?” Boba croaked. “No, I- “

Din didn't give Boba a chance to protest again. He picked the child up and let go, forcing Boba to catch him. The split second of free fall seemed to cheer the kid up. The quiet titter of laughter sounded out of place in the dark cavern. 

Any noise was out of place here. The darkness seemed to mute everything. Unlike the mines, there were no creaks and groans in the background. The eerie silence here was almost deafening. If Din was being honest with himself, it was close to making him jump at any odd sound.

"Where are you going?" Boba demanded, holding the child at arm’s length. He relented when the child started to whine and tucked him close, letting him rest against the crook of his arm.

"I'm going to take a closer look at the tomb," Din said. "Don't want him near it if they put as much thought into protection as they did in decorations."

"Yeah, that would be the only thing missing now," Boba muttered. He looked unsure what to do with himself or the child.

Din hummed in agreement before he walked to the sarcophagus. Whoever been laid to rest here might have had an ego, but by the looks of it others had agreed with that self-image. They had at least taken the time to carve intricate scenes into the side of the tomb, not something you would do for just anyone.

Like the effigy on top, time and the elements had done its best to erase most of the reliefs. All Din could make out was a large shape looming over several smaller figures. Whoever created this, their aim hadn't been to make some peaceful imagery for a final resting place. One of the few finer details that still remained clear were the massive claws belonging to the looming figure.

It reminded Din of a rancor, if it hadn’t been for the spines around the head and the tusks jutting out from what looked like the figure’s mouth. If it was supposed to be a rancor depicted on the tomb, the stone carvers had taken some liberties with the details. The longer Din looked at it, the less it reminded him of a rancor and more of an entirely different kind of creature.

One he’d never seen but heard stories about, almost on par with how many he’d heard of Boba Fett. He'd heard enough to be able to pick out the usual details that were brought up in the stories when describing the creature. He’d almost prefer it to be a rancor, at least a rancor would’ve been too big to be able to move about in the underground tunnels and caverns.

“Are you going to open it?” Boba asked.

Din got back to his feet and backed away from the tomb. “We’re not grave robbers,” he said but it was more than that. Finding the dead Jedi, talking to Boba again, it made him forget but now the cold made itself known again. “We should go.”

“Why?”

“There was one thing I couldn’t understand about this place.” Din glanced over his shoulder at the portals lined up along the wall behind the tomb. “If there’s more than one way in, then there’s more than one wrong turn to take. To keep people away from the tomb.”

“It wasn’t that difficult to find,” Boba commented.

“Right. Makes me think that if this is a maze, it’s not supposed to keep people away.” The angle from where Din was standing, the light from his helmet made relief of the looming creature cast a shadow over the smaller figures. “But to keep them from getting out.”

Whatever the creature was supposed to be, it looked like something that would make you run without thinking about where you were going. A chilling thought, worse than the cold, especially as the surface of the underground stream began to ripple.

The waves in the stream splashed gently against the black rocks that lined the edges of the water.

“Turn off your light,” Din said to Boba over the comm but Boba was way ahead of him, already moving closer to Din with the child.

Even without the added light from their helmets, they could still see the growing shadow approaching. It was coming from where the water streamed. It was fast and they were too far away from the only exit they knew with certainty would get them out.

Boba must've come to the same conclusion because he didn't as much as flinch when Din grabbed him to drag him along behind the only cover available. From behind the tomb, they could hear the heavy steps disturbing the water.

"So," Din started, whispering even though he spoke over the comm. "Do you think it'll get bored and move on before it finds us?"

Boba didn't bother with a reply. The way he silently turned to look at Din expressed every nuance of what he thought about Din even voicing such naive hope. He was right of course but it would've been nice to have an easy way out for once.

From their hiding place, they could hear the creature shuffle out of the water. Din's thermal sensor didn't pick up anything through the stone beyond that whatever it was, it was big. Not as big as a rancor although, at this point, Din would’ve preferred if that had been. 

Din inched closer to the edge of the tomb, he stilled as Boba grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back again. “I’ll just take a look. See what we’re dealing with,” Din assured him.

It wasn’t like Din had the same track record of doing reckless things, like Boba had. Well. Not one that Boba knew too much about yet. That lack of knowledge might have helped him convince Boba, who quickly let go of him like he hadn’t even realized that he’d grabbed Din in the first place. 

As silent as possible, Din peeked out from their cover. The light from the yellow rocks didn’t grant him much visibility as he turned off the thermal sensor in his helmet. He could still make out the shadow close by the body of Bothan. He could still see the outline of those massive claws so meticulously detailed on the side of the sarcophagus as they tore the dead Jedi apart.

Din slumped back against the side of the tomb next to Boba.

"Bad news," he said. "It's between us and the way out."

There were other options, they could easily reach one of the portals from here. But if the child hadn't been able to pick the right path before, Din didn't like their chances of finding their way out. The beast let out a low growl, a deep sound that bounced off the rocky walls. It didn't appear that it liked the taste of dead Jedi.

“Is there any good news?” Boba asked as someone who no longer expected to hear anything close to good news.

"I think it's a terentatek,” Din said.

Saying the creature’s name out loud made the situation surreal. Din hadn’t named it in his thoughts even when it was all he could think of when looking at the scenes carved out on the tomb.

“That’s not what I’d call good news,” Boba said, his voice oddly brittle despite the confident tone. “You sure?”

Din’s only reply was to retrieve his rifle from where it was slung over his back, with slow and careful movements. He didn’t get far as Boba resolutely handed the child back to him.

"You need to go," Boba said.

We need to go, Din wanted to say. “We’ll distract it,” he said instead. “If we can get back up to the first chamber, we’ll have a good chokepoint.”

“Sure.” Boba didn’t sound overly enthused about the admittedly simple but practical strategy. “But you get the kid out first.”

The yellow rocks growing out of the black walls seemed to shake and rattle as the terentatek let out an earsplitting roar. It was moving again. Getting closer to them, every second they waited now was a second lost.

“I’m not leaving you here,” Din said but even as he spoke, he was tucking the child securely to him again, keeping his hands free for whatever was coming now.

“You can trust me with this at least,” Boba said in a harsh whisper. His voice low and gravelly that it almost sounded like each word stuck in his throat and getting them out was painful. “Please. Just… keep him safe.”

There had been so many times now that Din knew he was missing something in Boba’s quips and teasing comments. So many times that he was starting to not bother with being annoyed by it anymore. But now the unspoken words were resounding in his head, crystal clear in their meaning.

And if there was a time less suited for knocking some sense into Boba than with a corpse between them, Din was pretty sure this was the worst time to try it. There was no time to find the right words and maybe there would never be enough time for that.

“I trusted you to not turn around,” is all Din can say and he hopes the meaning gets through to Boba.

The only sign Din gets that Boba even heard him is a curt nod and then Boba is gone, weapon already in hand. In contrast to the dim light, the rapid fire from Boba’s carbine rifle lights up the cavern with almost blinding red flashes.

Din could feel the slight tremble wracking the small body pressed against him. There was no more time. Boba had taken any other choice Din could’ve made out of his hands. It doesn’t make it any easier to go along with it.

Din runs.

It takes everything he has to not look away, to keep his eyes on the single safe way out of the cavern. The quicker he gets out, the sooner Boba could make his own escape. Every step of the way feels more like an act of sheer will than strength or endurance.

He only turns to look when the loud thumping of the beast charging towards Boba comes to a sudden stop. All Din gets is a brief impression of the creature he’s leaving Boba to deal with on his own.

The broad and flat head with the curved spines stretching along its back. The two tusks protruding from the corners of a maw filled with rows of teeth. Its thick hide that seemingly soaked up the barrage of blaster fire. But it's only when the cold realization sets in that the terentatek's small black eyes are firmly locked in their direction that Din feels afraid.

Because the terentatek inclines its head, its mouth stretching open in what looks like cruel grin. It’s not looking at Din, it’s looking at the child.

That was until the sudden whoosh from what could only be one of Boba’s wrist rockets hit its mark. The terentatek recoiled with an enraged howl, shielding its face with an arm.

Din keeps running.

Wading through the shallow waters was like running in a dream, slow and terrible. Getting through it left Din’s leg feeling like lead. Each step of the stair becoming an impossible climb but Din pushed on. There was no turning back, no other choice. He only has to get a bit further up and then Boba could follow.

But when Din finally reached the top of the stairs, he almost stumbles with how quickly he turns around. There was no one following him.

He could still hear the sound of blaster fire echoing from the cavern. Through it, there was a deep roar and then there was nothing. In the sudden silence, Din could hear his own thundering heartbeat. It almost drowned out the hiss in his ear, followed by a crackle, from the comm.

Boba’s voice cuts through everything though. Loud and clear, despite the shaky connection.

“Hey, Mando.”

And Din knows that even if he starts running now, it will be too late.

“That special occasion we talked about?” Boba sounded winded but otherwise calm. “Sorry to say it’s coming up sooner than I thought.”

Once again, as the comm goes silent, all Din can hear is his own heartbeat. Not even the low booming echo that shakes the rock around him and the delayed cloud of dust sweeping up from the tunnel can drown it out. 

As everything settles into the new, eerie silence the child keened.

"He's not dead."

Din didn’t know if he was trying to convince himself or console the child. The only thought clear in his mind is that Boba couldn’t be dead. Not like this. Not now. Din wouldn’t let him. There were too many who had died already. Din wouldn’t let Boba become another. He would find Boba again. He’d made sure of it.


	14. Thread

It was the worst the decision of his career. Worse than taking on the bounty on Solo. On the upside, it would likely be his last. Like most bad decisions, this one had been easy to make. Boba had known what he needed to do the moment the Mando put a name to the creature.

A terentatek.

Most of what he knew about them fell somewhere between hearsay and myth. He'd heard and read everything from them being immune to the Force to the more mundane facts about being highly venomous. Nothing Boba was willing to bet his life on.

He’d only seen one of them up close once before. Well, he’d seen the head of one. Mounted on the wall in the office of the imperial magistrate of Kashyyyk. She had of course not hunted it herself but helped herself to it. A small reward for looking the other way when slavers ransacked Wookie villages. That didn't stop her from blathering on about it like she’d personally slayed it.

Boba hadn't paid much attention to it when he passed through her office to collect his payment. A stony silence was the best way to make people like the magistrate uncomfortable. Which was also the quickest way to make them fork over the credits and let Boba go on about his business.

“I’ve always thought these powerful creatures were a fitting symbol for the might of the Empire,” she'd said, gesturing at the beast hanging on her wall. Right when they'd been so close to completing the credit transfer, much to Boba's chagrin.

His nonexistent response had done nothing to dissuade the magistrate. Some people needed to hear their own voice in the same way they needed air.

"You know, according to legends, the terentatek can lay dormant for centuries. Only stirring when they sense the presence of their enemies. It’s their blood, you see. They can smell it." She'd tittered. "Now, the Empire is of course ever vigilant but I rather like the comparison. We too grew strong as we defeated that vile order of mystics."

He hadn't cared about it then but the kid put the magistrate’s little spiel in a different light. 

Unsurprisingly, the Mando objected when Boba told him to go. He made a good show of it, good enough to hurt. He folded like Boba expected once the safety of the kid came into question. Even that hurt, because if nothing else, at least the Mando could trust him with this. And in a way, that meant Boba could give the kid the chance he'd never had. A chance to save his father.

Because the Mando left, if only to keep the child safe.

And that proved that the magistrate hadn’t been completely wrong. With the Mando and the kid out in the open, the terentatek hadn’t let any measly blaster fire distract it for long. It gave them its full attention. There had been nothing in the way it looked at them that Boba had liked.

The only thing he liked even less was how quick the terentatek had shrugged off a Czerka wrist-rocket to back of its head. Like it was nothing more than a blister gnat. Frankly, it bordered on rude considering what those rockets went for on the black market nowadays. At least it let Boba buy enough time for the Mando to get out.

It was a short-lived victory. Whatever the Empire had done with the terentatek when they had it in their possession, they'd done a good job of it. The steady barrage of blaster bolts seemed to be nothing more than a minor annoyance once the terentatek had set its sights on the kid. Trying to stop it was like fighting gravity in a ship with a dead engine. The terentatek only stopped to look at Boba, as it reached the foot of the stairs, with something close to a leer on its face.

It was downright insulting. Boba would have to step it up and show that thing that he was much more than a mere appetizer. Boba Fett was main course material and he would make damn sure the terentatek choked on it too.

There was little room to properly maneuver with the jetpack but all Boba needed was quick burst of speed. Flying low, feet almost dragging across the ground and skimming over the stagnate pools of water, it got him where he needed to be.

Judging by the enraged howling, the shower of fire had done the trick better than blaster bolts. It was a pretty good sign that it was time for a strategic retreat too. The terentatek turned its small and beady eyes towards Boba, spreading its claws wide with a snarl.

There was no getting it past the creature to get to the stairs now but it was nice to be acknowledge for once.

When the terentatek lunged, Boba was already on his way to the closest portal. Thermal detonator active even before he passed the threshold into the new unknown. The charge stuck to the side of the entrance into the tunnel, the speed of the flickering light signaling that all Boba had was mere seconds.

With the terentatek hard on his heels, seconds was all Boba needed to make it work.

The tunnel collapsing behind them was an irrevocable seal. The finality of it brought Boba nothing other than an odd sense of calm. As he dredged up enough breath for a final comm, Boba remembered one of the few pieces Jango had chosen to share with him from his own childhood.

_Not gone, merely marching far away._

Boba had never dwelled on those long gone. There was no use and brought little comfort. He'd learned that the hard way. But despite everything he knows and has done, Boba hoped it was how the Mando would remember him.

**

Boba runs. There wasn't much else to do. Whenever the tunnel split into two or more paths, he spared no time to consider his choice. The results would be the same, every choice getting him more lost. He turned the comm off, there was no place for any distractions now. There was nothing other than the endless tunnels, black and glassy like volcanic rock, and the steady sound of the beast hunting him down.

Boba had thought of turning around and facing the terentatek. It would come to that eventually. The tunnels were narrow, but not narrow enough to stop the terentatek in its diligent hunt. In the cramped space, he wouldn't be able to avoid those claws and teeth for long. For now, keeping the lead in their little race was the one advantage he still had.

Which he promptly lost when the tunnel ends without warning. Along with the ground under his feet. He doesn’t have the air to waste on swearing when he almost topples over the edge.

Backpedaling costs him valuable seconds and when Boba takes to the air, he could feel the beast’s warm breath against his back. The sudden open space gives him the advantage of his jetpack again but little time to make a plan where he was going. Away seemed like a good idea when the terentatek tried to pluck him right out of the air.

The claws glanced off the vents on the jetpack, sending Boba bouncing off the closest rock wall. The pack held on long enough for Boba to slow his fall and he hit the ground running instead of a straightforward crash.

The tunnels had led him to yet another cavern. Boba was beginning to think that Deimos had been hollowed out long before the Empire arrived. The portal they came barreling out of was up on a ledge, sitting at a height that makes Boba count himself lucky. Especially as he's surrounded by more of those glowing rocks. But here they rose up from the cracked ground like spiky stalagmites. They looked sharp, crashing into them would've done some serious damage.

From the ledge, a meandering path led down to where Boba had landed. That doesn't give him any more time to take in the new battleground. The terentatek doesn't bother navigating the narrow path down. With no hesitation, it jumped after Boba, slowing its descent by digging its claws into the rock to slide down, leaving a trail of gouges behind it.

Boba fixed his sights on the terentatek, blaster leveled in its direction. It wasn't over yet. The short and somewhat uncoordinated flight had still put some distance between them. The crystal formations kept him from getting a clear shot but they also gave him room to breathe. The terentatek wouldn't able to charge at him unimpeded now.

If he was going to stop running, this was a good place to do it.

Boba chose not think what would come after that. Walking away from the fight wouldn't leave him with much hope of finding his way back. Having the beast tear out his guts would almost be a mercy compared to starving to death in the seemingly endless tunnels and caverns. But while he wasn't afraid to die, it didn't mean Boba was planning on making it easy for the terentatek. It wasn't his style.

If nothing else, he'd make sure no one would be walking away from this fight.

The terentatek seemed to be of the same mind. It threw its body through the first crystalline pillar that stood in its way, shattering it into shards that rained down all around it. Losing one of his last advantages doesn’t rattle Boba.

He holds his position. Aims. Exhales. Fires.

The heavier blasts goes slower than the previous rapid volley of shots. It knocked the terentatek back a few steps when it takes a hit to the shoulder. Enough time for Boba to scramble out of reach from the sweeping claws coming his way. They dig down into the black rock, right where he’d been a split second ago.

He ducks behind the closest crystal pillar. The translucent rock isn't the best cover but the terentatek seems set on going through the rock rather than around it to get him. He dodges and weaves through the pillars. Never slowing down. Another miss from the terentatek was all he needed to keep going. One hit was all the terentatek needed to finish the fight. There was no room for thought, only constant movement to keep himself just out of reach.

There's nothing else to think of other than the flashes of sharp claws and jaws snapping shut a little too close for comfort. But every second of it was worth it. For every second Boba kept it occupied, it was second more to ensure the Mando and the kid got out.

And it's that stray thought that make Boba miss a step.

He's spared an instant goring by twisting around to catch the back of the terentatek's hand against the ribs instead of its claws. He slams hard into a crystal pillar, cracking it from the impact of his body.

The terentatek loomed over him, taking its sweet time with Boba on the ground, spitting up blood inside his helmet. The noise it made now was different from the roars and howls. It almost sounded like a guttural laugh, amplified and multiplied by bouncing off the crystals until there was a choir of it. The way the its mouth twisted, showing off rows of long and pointed teeth, looked more like a pleased grin than a mindless snarl.

Boba sneered at it, the metallic taste of his own blood brought everything back into focus. He'd told the Mando, for what felt like ages ago, that there were many different ways to sabotage a jetpack. Boba knew them all, including how to do it to the one he was wearing. If this was it, the terentatek would learn it'd bitten off more than it could chew.

All Boba had to do was wait until the last second. The terentatek raised its clawed hand high but all Boba could think about was willing it to take one more step.

That's when the terentatek stopped. Claws still hovering in the air, it stood stock-still before sniffing the air with a loud snorting noise. It seemed transfixed for a moment before a low growl shuddered its way out. The sound reverberated down Boba's spine.

“Hey!” came a shout from their left. “Over here, ugly!”

The terentatek twists around, the timing perfect for it to take a direct hit from what Boba recognizes as the heavier blast from an amban rifle. It packed a better punch then the uninspired battle cry. Making the beast shamble away from Boba. The filters in his helmet did their best but the sharp smell of blistering flesh still gets through.

Boba had questions.

What the hell had the Empire been feeding that beast? Other than the unlucky souls of Deimos. Because a shot like that from an amban rifle should've disintegrated the terentatek on the spot. Although seeing big flakes of its hide peel away was pretty spectacular sight too.

Perhaps the most crucial question was; how did the Mando find him? Why? Any possible answer to the latter sent a strange cocktail of emotions through his systems. A mix of fear, feverish hope and good helping of anger.

That idiot. Boba was going to kill him.

First he needed to get away before the terentatek remembered Boba’s existence again. That was all he was hoping for when he took the air. He was asking for so very little, some distance between him and the ferocious beast howling in pain and rage.

Boba’s jetpack gave him exactly that. For a few seconds. Then it sputtered and sparked before coughing up a final burst.

The quick loss of altitude came to a sudden stop, along with the arm the Mando grabbed almost popping right out of its socket. Not that Boba was going to complain about that or the rough landing. Making a catch like that mid-air made the Mando the greatest flier in the galaxy for all he cared. At least the Mando seemed less prone to jetpack malfunctions than Boba had been experiencing of late.

"So, vaporize pulse didn't work," the Mando said as he dropped Boba back onto solid ground, before landing next to him. "Think we can outrun it?"

“What are you doing?” Boba growled.

“Saving you.” The Mando tilted his head at Boba. “Again.”

Boba couldn't see the kid anywhere but he notices how the Mando's attention strays towards one of the portals. Presumably the one he entered the cavern from and where the kid would be hiding. Boba knows he must be close by. It was the only explanation for why the terentatek hadn't gone through with ripping him apart.

Boba rolled his arm, ignoring the little popping noise the action made. "Doubt we can outrun it," he said through gritted teeth. "It’s faster than it looks."

"Great." The Mando sounded like Boba had just informed him of nothing more than a forecast of ion storms. "We'll have to kill it then."

"What do you think I've been trying to do?" Boba snapped at him.

"Annoy it?" The amban rifle in the Mando’s hands hummed a low as it slowly charged up again. "You're good at that."

Boba wanted to argue that the Mando wasn’t half-bad at it himself. He’d given him an out, him and the kid. If the Mando died now, Boba hoped there was an everlasting march to join up with because he was going to find the Mando there and kill him all over again. He was determined enough to do it but at the moment, that determination would be of better use to at least try to take out the terentatek.

“We’ll need to slow it down,” Boba said. “I’ve got an idea.”

The Mando steadied his aim as the terentatek set its sights on them again. Boba did the same.

"It better not be anything like your last idea," the Mando practically growled at him.

"Don’t worry. Already wasted my one thermal, thanks to you."

For a moment it seemed the Mando considered jabbing Boba in the side with the forked electro-prongs on his rifle.

"I'll have to try something different now that you're here," Boba said.

"What do you need?"

"Distract it. Use your blaster as long as you can until the rifle can do another vaporize pulse. Don’t need your aim to be good, just keep it busy. Take to the air if you have to buy time.”

The Mando nodded, hesitating a little. "I'm not going to leave you."

Boba grinned. "Anyone ever tell you that you're clingy?"

"No.”

A roar that morphed into a terrible shriek was the sign that the terentatek wouldn't give them any more time to prepare. The loud thumping steps as it came at them like a battering-ram made the crystals shake in their foundation. Each pillar it went through barely slowed it down, just like the rain of blaster fire hardly seemed to have an effect on it.

"It's not slowing down," the Mando said.

"I know!"

"It’s not slowing down," the Mando repeated a little louder.

“I know!”

Boba could hear the familiar whine from a jetpack getting ready for lift-off but the Mando was still on the ground.

"Go!" Boba shouted as he flipped his grip on the vibro blade in his hand.

The Mando was going for a short flight, whether he wanted to or not. If they couldn’t slow the beast down, Boba wanted him out of the way for when he finished the fight like he’d intended to do before. With some more permanent damage to his own jetpack. As he got ready to quite literally stab the Mando in the back, the yellow shards scattered all around them began to rattle and shake. The sound jarring and when it stopped, Boba could feel the absence of it ringing in his ears. Nothing as strange as what he saw happening.

Every single shard went completely still as they hovered off the ground. All at once, they righted themselves and pointed in the same direction. A harmonious tinkling filled the cavern as they flung themselves through the air. The terentatek howled as it was caught in the hale. Each shard dug itself into its gray speckled hide. Blood already dripping from its ruined face when it raised its arms up to protect itself. Its eye scrunched up in pain. The only eye it still had left.

Boba dropped the vibro blade and let out a whoop. He doesn't need to turn around to know that the kid is there. Boba could picture the look of deep concentration on the kid’s face, the same as when he’d opened the holocron.

Boba grabbed the Mando's shoulder, giving it a shake. "Get ready!"

And this time the Mando listened, and Boba loses sight of him as he goes up and sideways. Boba dropped everything; blaster, rifle and he unlatches the jetpack from his back as he begins to sprint towards the terentatek. He can’t have anything slowing him down.

From experience, he knows that handling a lightsaber was difficult at the best of times. There was nothing about it that made sense. For all the power stored within it, the metal cylinder felt like it weighed nothing at all. With the terentatek distracted, he could make it work. Hopefully not cutting his own hand off in the process. Or the terentatek biting his head off before he killed it.

Once chance. That's was all he had.

The terentatek welcomed Boba with open arms, the snarl on its face distorted as half of it was peeling off.

"Down!"

Boba doesn't stop to think, he ducks forward, keeping up the momentum in the fall. The heat of the blast singing his pauldron as it goes by towards its true target. The terentatek lurched but Boba was close enough to feel the puff of decaying flesh through the helmet.

What comes next goes by in a blur.

The lightsaber hummed to life. Its bright green light reflecting in the terentatek's single black eye. Boba sees his once chance at the same time death comes for him.

The terentatek’s mouth opens wide.

Boba meets it by stabbing the blade clean through the exposed roof its mouth as the jaws closed around his shoulder.

A quick flash of pain that burned like fire as the jaws tightened for a brief second, then the best went still

Boba goes down with the terentatek as it dropped to the ground with a gurgle.

With the jaws still secure and tight around his shoulder, Boba let the lightsaber fizzle out in his hand. He makes one half-hearted attempt to bend the jaws open before the Mando joined him. With some effort, they pushed the upper jaw up long enough for Boba to roll himself out of the carcass.

"See?" Boba waved the lightsaber in the Mando's face as the other pulled him to his feet, shaking off the drool before clipping it back to his belt. "Like I said. Useful."

“More than that.”

The Mando sounded out of breath and little exasperated. Boba wasn’t sure if they were talking about the same thing.

**

When they got back to where the kid was waiting for them, the Mando pushed Boba down to sit. He didn't try to resist and leaned against the wall by the portal. Exhaustion started to claim its right and it was so easy to let it when the Mando was right there. The kid babbled a string on nonsense at him and Boba reached out to drag his thumb over one ear. He laughed as it flicked under his touch, the kid wrinkling his nose at him.

"Not bad, kid." Boba smiled. "You went for the eyes, just like I told you."

The kid chirped in reply, both joyful and worried.

The Mando snorted. "I told him to stay put." He gave the kid what Boba assumed was a stern look under the beskar. "Should've known you wouldn't listen."

Boba hissed as the Mando undid the clasps to the pauldron on his shoulder

"Don't think it got through," Boba said and tried to wave off the Mando's fussing.

His shoulder throbbed. The exhaustion seemed to numb the pain, reducing it to a dull ache that washed over him in waves from the spot where the terentatek had tried to rip through. It was only when the Mando cut away the suit beneath the armor that Boba felt the rivulets of blood trickling down his arm.

The Mando let out quiet curse, glancing up at Boba. "How bad is it?"

Boba hitched his helmet up a little, spitting out a glob of blood. "It's fine."

He could feel the heat of the Mando's glare before he started to dress the wound. The kid's fussing got almost as bad as the Mando's, whining and trying to clamber up Boba's leg. He put a hand around the kid, holding him back against his side. The Mando's movements were already a little rough to begin with, like he couldn't keep his hands steady. The kid getting in the middle of it wouldn’t help.

"You didn't have to come back for me," Boba said.

The Mando paused in his work. “I think I did.” He glanced pointedly in the direction of the dead terentatek.

And there was so much Boba wanted to know. Needed to know. All he could ask was: "How did you find me?"

"You're not the only bounty hunter in the galaxy." The Mando inclined his head and leaned forward. "I know how to find people too."

Boba couldn't choke back the noise the crawled up his throat when the hand curled around the side of his neck. The touch felt like an echo. Gentle and light but once again it stopped Boba from even thinking of trying to get away from it.

"Also, I tagged you" the Mando said. "That helped.”

Everything the adrenaline had pushed out of his mind came rushing back.

"I know," Boba said, his voice hoarse. "I found the tracker."

He felt numb in a way that had nothing to do with being chewed on by a terentatek.

"I destroyed it," he said, somehow keeping his voice even.

The Mando's head tilted. "Of course you found it." His tone suggested that Boba was the one not making sense. "You're supposed to find the decoy."

The worn glove against the thick fabric of his collar felt like a caress. Then the Mando snapped something loose and brought his hand back for Boba to see.

"I'm not the only one who gets distracted," the Mando said as he pocketed the second tracker. Boba could hear it then. The slight smirk in his voice. "The kid helped. It was a two-man job."

The Mando secured the bacta patch neatly. Boba could feel it wouldn't do much good but he wanted to have this, if only for a little while. It was already getting difficult to speak.

“I had to find you," the Mando said. "Like you found me.”

Whatever Boba expected to hear, it wasn't that. He doesn't know what he expected anymore.

“I found you because I was going to kill you,” Boba mumbled.

The Mando let out a half-suppressed laugh. “You didn't do a very good job of it."

Boba couldn't help but laugh even if it hurt a little do so. He wanted to rip the helmet off that smug bastard’s head. He wanted to see what he imagined to now be wryly slanted lips. He wanted to see if there was any trace in the Mando's eyes of what he saw when he looked at Boba.

He doesn’t move as much as he pitches forward, grabbing the Mando’s shoulders to pull him close. His own shoulder burned under the strain as Boba thumped their helmets together. He half-expects to be pushed away. Or given a Keldabe of a different kind. The kind that cost a few teeth but earned you a broken nose for your troubles. Boba only has vague memories of doing it any other way than that.

All those memories were from before Geonosis. After that, Boba never had any reason to do it other than for violent ones. Even now, it felt a few shades too violent. But the Mando doesn’t push him away, he only leans his weight against Boba. It makes him feel like he’s been flayed open but he knows that he wants this, before it all comes to an end.

The Mando kept a hand against the back of Boba’s head, holding them still against each other and lets it play out like Boba needed it to. He’s grateful for every second of this the Mando could give him. Knowing it would have to end makes it so good and awful all at once.

"You're a terrible bounty hunter," Boba choked out, words slurred. His lungs burned with every breath he took. "I gave you an out."

"I tagged and tracked you down." The Mando lifted his head up before tipping it back against Boba’s forehead. "I'd say that makes me the better hunter out of the two of us."

Boba's laughter breaks off into a loud, ragged gasp. His arm and chest feel numb. The pain now impossible to ignore as it shoots through him like wildfire.

The Mando was saying something to him. 

Shouting. 

It seemed to be coming from somewhere far away. It was hard to concentrate or reply with the weight of an entire ocean bearing down on him but he could still hear the Mando.

"Do something!"

Boba’s not sure what he’s supposed to do as the darkness swallowed him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, another little cliffhanger. Sorry. In my defense, you’ve all been so incredibly nice and encouraging in the comments that I have no choice but to keep writing this fic like I’ve planned <3


	15. Memories and dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all the lovely and kind comments. Reading your reactions, thoughts and speculations made it easy to keep writing even when it felt like I only managed to write one word per hour <3

His body felt wrong, too soft and sharp all at once. Bones and muscles no longer fit together, chafing and burning inside of him. Boba felt wide awake but somewhere he knows that what he saw wasn’t real. There was a blurred edge to it but the awareness was impossible to hold onto when through the haze, he saw the Mando.

He towered over Boba, body long and twisted, moving like the writhing shadows all around them. The final sliver of awareness slipped away when the Mando reaches for his own helmet. Boba can’t look away. Because there’s nothing hidden behind the dark visor once the Mando removes the helmet. Only distorted features. No eyes. No mouth. No face. There’s nothing and he wants to scream but he can’t and he knows why.

The man with no face wasn't wearing a plain beskar armor. Boba can’t tell if it was so from the beginning or if it changed without him noticing. The armor he wears now is green with yellow and red. Which is why Boba can’t scream. There’s no mouth to scream with. There's nothing and the darkness takes a hold of him and begins to drag him down again.

He can't fight it. There's nothing to hold onto except... there was someone laughing at him. It was low and rumbling. Resonant and squeaky at the same time. Completely out of place in the suffocating dark. That’s when Boba realizes two things.

He’s waking up but he could still hear the croaking laugh.

At first, all he could do was stare up at grey ceiling above him. The nightmare faded fast from his mind, replaced with a deep sense of affront, when Boba found the source of the odd sound.

There was a frog crawling on his face.

Boba wasn’t going to pretend he’d led the most righteous life but if this was the afterlife, he had several suggestions on how to improve it. As eternal punishment, this one was mediocre at best.

The ceiling above him was partly hidden from view when the kid leaned in over him, eyes full of concern.

"You found the stash," Boba said, his voice no more than a hoarse whisper.

The kid babbled at him, grabbed the frog and gently slammed it against Boba's face. The frog let out a miserable croak.

“Thanks,” Boba murmured. “Appreciate the offer but no.”

His mouth was dry and tasted weird. Boba nursed a fervent hope that it was unrelated to the frog. When Boba didn’t cooperate with his attempts to help, the kid reached the conclusion that there was no sense in wasting a good frog. That put the frog out of its misery, leaving only Boba to suffer.

He closed his eyes again and took stock of himself. His armor and helmet were gone, leaving him dressed in only his under suit. It felt stale with sweat against his skin. When he didn't move, the kid leaned closer. One hand placed on Boba's nose to support his weight while the other tried to pry one of Boba's eyes open.

"Don't worry. I'm still alive." Boba blinked blearily at the kid, who moved back to perch on his chest instead. "I think."

While a sonic shower didn’t sound like a bad idea, getting up at all was the first crucial challenge. He didn't feel tired as much as he felt utterly drained. His head felt clear enough though, scattered thoughts finally lining up in a way that made sense.

Boba recognized the ceiling above him to be the one in the cargo hold of the Mando's ship. Though the makeshift bed where he was resting was a new addition. It was laid out along the wall, tucked away and with some privacy afforded by a few stacked crates. The realization that it was something the Mando must've put together for him made Boba's chest feel a little strange. Something he decided to examine closer at a later date.

"You're awake."

Boba twisted his head to look up at the Mando. It was unclear how long he’d been standing there, watching Boba.

"Sorry to disappoint," Boba said.

He hated how weak his voice was and if there was any mercy in the galaxy, the Mando wouldn't have witnessed the entire spectacle of his rude awakening. Though he regretted the glibness of his reply. It was obvious the Mando had made an effort to keep him comfortable. Not an easy feat in a ship meant for transporting a hunter and a few bounties at the most. Comfort wasn't exactly a priority for any of the ship's usual kind of passengers.

The Mando came closer until Boba didn't have to twist around to see him. He couldn't tell if the Mando noticed what a relief it was for him to slump back down again. He hoped that he didn’t.

“How do you feel?” The Mando's voice was impassive. "And don't say ‘ _fine_ ’."

Boba closed his mouth and reconsidered his reply.

“Like a sarlacc chewed and spat me out,” he finally said.

“That’s specific.”

“Well, I would know,” Boba muttered to the kid, who watched with him a patient expression.

The Mando stared down at Boba. There was nothing that made him think he was in any danger but to be at the complete mercy of someone else chafed. Enough to make him squirm under the steady scrutiny.

"And now you know what it's like to almost be killed by a terentatek too."

The Mando didn't sound like he approved of Boba's ever growing life experiences which was a little unfair. The keyword here was 'almost'. It was impressive, especially since Boba didn't exactly know how he'd managed that.

“At least we didn’t run into any ghosts,” Boba said.

The only response the Mando deigns to give to that is to turn on his heel and walk away. With the Mando out of the room, Boba glanced down at his shoulder.

Most of the torn sleeve had been cut away, leaving neat edges were only the slightest trace of dried blood remained. The terentatek's fangs had left their mark but that had healed up nicely. Bacta did wonders. The worst of it was the web of scaring that spread out from where the teeth had pierced through. With time, they wouldn’t stand out among all the other scars Boba had already earned.

Although he had some trouble piecing together the events relating to his newest set of scars. Memories and dreams bled into each right up until he woke up in the ship. He remembered the feeling of drowning. Lungs constricting. Vertigo. Darkness reaching up to pull him down, burying him.

Still, it wouldn't have been a bad way to go. Better than at the hands of an ex-imperial turned pirate. Not with a literal bang to cap off his illustrious career, but slaying a terentatek wasn't too shabby. Compared to the sarlacc, dying would've been painless. Boba hadn't been alone this time. This time he would've had someone who he...

Boba screwed his eyes shut with a groan. He couldn’t even try and lie to himself that what he remembered was a mere creation of a feverish mind. Out of everything he could recall it was too vivid to be anything other than a memory. He could almost hear the sound of their helmets tapping together.

A worried squeak made Boba open his eyes again with some reluctance.

"Still alive, kid," Boba reassured.

“Hungry?” the Mando asked when he returned, carrying two canteens with him that he placed on a crate near Boba.

The question was a lifeline, a perfect excuse to think about anything that what had just occupied his thoughts. To his surprise, Boba realized that he actually was. It was a hunger that lurked but once he gave it some thought, it turned into something that was almost ravenous.

“I could eat,” Boba said.

That was something the Mando seemed to approve of at least.

"You were out of it for a couple of days," he said. "I got you to drink a little but not much else."

Boba frowned. “I don’t remember that.”

“Didn’t think you would. You still had a fever then.” The Mando paused. “You kept talking about how green was a better color than purple.”

Those gaps in his memory Boba could live with.

"I found a medcenter willing to sell me a few hypos to keep you hydrated," the Mando went on, unscrewing the lid on one of the canteens. "But you'll need more to get back on your feet."

That did explain why he was feeling perkier than he had any right to be.

“Those are expensive,” Boba said, watching the Mando pour water into a mug.

"You needed them," the Mando replied as if it was a simple as that. "I could afford it, you did make sure I got my cut from the Cubber Rak job before we set off for the mines."

He set the mug aside and leaned over to pick the kid up from his spot on Boba, placing him next to him.

“It didn’t pay that well,” Boba said.

The Mando ignored him, wavering for a moment before he crouched down and helped Boba sit up and lean against the wall.

“Especially not with Dengar’s cut out of your share.”

The Mando pressed the mug into his hands. "Drink."

Boba grit his teeth, the slight tremble in his hands made the water spill out from the mug. The mere act of sitting up seemed to have sapped most of what little energy he had. The Mando reached for him and this time his hesitation didn't last as long as before. Boba still didn't miss how the Mando tensed before he gingerly closed his hands around Boba's. The grip was steady and with his help, Boba brought the mug up to his lips.

Boba wondered if the Mando was also thinking about the last time they'd been this close. It made him wish for his helmet. Without it, every single thought running through his head felt like it was put on display. Something inside him burned and it wasn't because of any lingering fever.

The water was a welcome distraction. Possibly for the both of them. It tasted stale but Boba would've gulped it down if the Mando hadn't set the pace. He was silent and efficient, focused on making sure Boba drank as much as possible.

When the mug was empty, the Mando switched it out with another filled with the content from the second canteen. Lukewarm broth with a perfectly bland taste. It was better than anything even the restaurants by the Core Square on Coruscant could serve up. If only because Boba actually managed to feed himself this time. One victory at a time was better than nothing.

"I didn't... " the Mando began before his voice quietened down. He turned his helmet away from Boba, looking towards the kid who had no qualms with watching Boba eat.

Boba took a few more sips as he waited.

"I thought we made it," the Mando said. "I didn't think it through and then you... " he cut himself off and the mere possibility of the Mando hinting at it made Boba's heart flutter. "I should've done something, before it was too late," the Mando finished weakly, staring resolutely at the kid.

Boba didn't shrug, it was more like a slight twitch. "Don't take all the blame," he said. "I could've mentioned the venom but I didn't want to ruin our little moment."

Boba kept his gaze fixed at the broth, the surface of it rippled in his unsteady grip. He felt more than saw the Mando turning to look at him.

Boba handed the now empty mug back to the Mando without a word. He was already exhausted but at least the exhaustion took the edge off everything else. The choice to slide back down until he was lying flat on his back again was deliberate as much as it was letting gravity take its due. With the Mando's eyes on him, Boba stared up at the ceiling.

The venom had allowed Boba to last long enough to take something he wanted. Only he hadn't expected to stick around and face what came after. Whatever the Mando has to say about it now, Boba wasn't sure he wanted to hear it.

"You went all out this time." The words forced their way out of Boba's mouth without his say so. "I mean, for someone shy about even removing my helmet before." He plucked idly at the wrinkled fabric of his under suit. “Thanks for letting me keep this on. Nice to have some secrets left.”

That stopped the Mando's silent staring. Instead he jerked and shot back to his feet. Posture stiff with his shoulders drawn up high. He opened and closed his hands reflexively.

"I'm- "

"Don't," Boba interrupted before the Mando could set off on his little guilt trip. "I told you, all that matters is surviving. Not how you do it. Besides, you've already seen me without it."

“It was still your choice then."

“I don’t mind,” Boba said. “Not when it’s you.”

With that Boba completely ruins his own attempt at changing the subject. He'd expected the strong reaction, the perfect way to move away from the previous talking point. Now he's brought them back to something that's too close to what he wanted to avoid in the first place. He didn’t need any fancy Jedi mind powers to sense it.

"I mean, even Dengar and Manaroo seen me without the helmet. Can't get any worse than that," Boba hurried to say. "Dengar thinks it makes him special. Doesn't hurt to take him down a peg or two."

He refuses to look at the Mando. The ceiling was a much better choice. It didn't make his insides twist around themselves when he looked at it.

"Speaking of the how of surviving," Boba went on because despite how tired he is, keeping his mouth shut seemed impossible. "How did you get me out of there?"

"It took some time," the Mando said in a guarded voice. "Managed to keep you walking until we reached the surface. Practically had to drag you back to the speeders."

The Mando moved away from Boba, it sounded like he was occupying himself with checking over some gear.

The explanation made sense of the bits and pieces Boba could remember. The endless, dark tunnels. A voice urging him to keep moving. Other than that, there wasn't much that made sense. The rest of his memories are vague and indiscernible from the flurry of odd visions. Things that could've only been creations of the venom.

Although not everything he’d seen could solely be blamed on the venom. Some of it felt like things buried that venom had unearthed. Blurred and distorted faces rose up to the forefront of Boba's mind but with a firm mental shove, Boba pushed those thoughts away. 

"No, I mean... " Boba tries and fails to keep the fatigue out of his voice. "The venom, how did you... "

"The venom isn't a problem anymore." The Mando's voice was firm, like Boba's recovery hinged on his own determination. "You had a fever but it broke shortly after we got back to the ship. Bacta took care of your other injuries. Now you need to rest."

"There's no antidote to terentatek venom," Boba insists.

And even if it did exist, it wouldn't be anything you could find anywhere near a backwater planet like Deimos.

"Some say that terentateks are nothing more than spacer tales," the Mando replied smartly. "So who knows?"

An elegant way of avoiding the question.

"I should've died."

Boba didn't know if he was speaking to the Mando or to himself out loud.

The Mando stilled. It was quiet long enough to make Boba think the other had slipped away without him noticing.

“You almost did,” the Mando finally said.

Boba knows there's more to it. He almost knows the answer already but he's tired. Falling asleep, a real sleep and not a state of feverish unconsciousness, felt like such an easy thing to do. The sound of the Mando moving about close by made Boba's eyes feel heavy.

His mind begins to quiet down but before it did, Boba remembered trying to hold onto the Mando. As if he was the one thing in the entire galaxy that could’ve kept the darkness at bay. Kept it from swallowing Boba whole. He remembered knowing that without the helmets in the way, he would’ve felt the other’s breath against his face.

**

There are no dreams or nightmares to recall the next time Boba wakes up. When he comes around again, he actually feels rested and, as a bonus, there was no frog in sight. It wasn’t the kid who woke him up this time. It was the thud of the Mando placing Boba's helmet next to him.

“What are we doing?”

"You're not doing anything," the Mando said, giving his blaster a final once over. "I've got a job."

He holstered the blaster again and gestured at the helmet. "I thought you'd prefer to have it nearby while I was gone."

"What's the job?" Boba struggled to sit up, it didn't give him as much trouble as before. He grabbed his helmet and put it on. "Give me a stim-shot and I'm good to go."

“Hm.”

Honestly, it was inspiring how much disapproval the Mando could pack into a single sound.

"You need rest," the Mando said. "I need to make some credits to make up for what I paid to keep the hangar. That old Rodian made a dent in what I earned from the Cubber Rak job."

Boba clenched at the blanket covering him. The Mando had stuck around Deimos for his sake. Keeping close to med supplies, expensive med supplies, while he waited for Boba to recover.

“I’ll pay you back for it.”

"Yes, you will," the Mando said. "Your share of the fee."

Boba had offered to help, offered to be useful to the Mando. Now he was stuck convalescing. The Mando's painful honesty didn't make him feel any better about it.

"Don't leave her too much of a tip," Boba muttered. "She overcharges like everyone else on this lousy planet."

The Mando let out a strangled noise. “You should consider leaving her a more generous tip next time,” he advised.

Boba ignored the advice, the same way he ignored how good it felt to lie back down again.

The Mando paused on his way out of the ship and waited by the open door. The kid hurried over to him with pattering steps to hug the Mando's leg tightly.

"I won't be long," the Mando promised. He glanced at Boba, then leaned down to pat the kid on the head. "Keep an eye on him."

The kid chirped and nodded seriously before he let go of the Mando’s leg.

Boba stared back up at the ceiling again as he listened to the Mando's heavy steps going down the ship's ramp, the door closing behind him. He was bored already, which he decided was a good sign. At least he had company. Something to remind him that he had a good reason for his current state.

"Hey," Boba said when the kid returned to perch at the edge of the sleeping mat.

Thinking back to the cave, the decisions he'd made felt like they belonged to someone else. There were some things Boba would've done differently if given another shot at it. He knew how to learn from his mistakes. But knowing the results, there wasn't much he'd change if given another chance. The kid was safe. The Mando was alive, albeit clearly harboring some resentment.

The kid scratched at the side of Boba's helmet.

"Looks like you're stuck with me for now." Boba reached out with his hand and the kid grabbed his thumb, holding it securely.

It was a good enough reward for his efforts. Made the humiliation of his current situation a little more bearable.

That feeling didn't last for long.

“Are you decent?” a voice called out as the ship door opened again, followed by the sound of someone banging against the side of the ship. “The Mando said you were.”

The kid squawked at loud noise, ears quivering. Boba allowed himself a deep sigh. He’d underestimated the Mando.

Despite putting up a show of having manners, Dengar barged in without waiting for Boba to respond. While he’d already seen Boba at the lowest point of his entire career, Boba did feel some gratitude for the Mando making sure he had his helmet. Once was one time too many. At least Dengar knew not to blab about it to anyone.

“This must be real embarrassing for you,” Dengar said with a delighted grin.

That never stopped him from making Boba pay for it, one way or another. A drugged up, possibly organ-stealing, and disgraced veterinarian would've almost been preferable to this.

**

Din had heard the sound of dying many times before.

A sudden cry.

A desperate plea.

A quiet gasp.

Sometimes death had made no sound at all.

This hadn't been one of those times. Huddled by the cave wall, the sound of Boba dying had been a jagged breath. An unmistakable broken sound. It was nothing Din hadn't heard before but he hadn't expected to hear it then.

If he'd known it was coming all along, it was difficult to remember now. What he could remember with perfect clarity was the moment where all rational thought left him. Boba was alive, despite his best efforts to make it difficult for Din to ensure he stayed that way. It had been easy to think of about that and nothing else.

Then Boba had pulled him forward and roughly pressed them even closer together. It felt right. It'd been almost violent the way Boba did it but that had felt right too in the moment. Boba had reached out for him and all Din could do, all he wanted to do, was to hold on and hope it would be enough.

If there had been any trace of rationality, Din had lost it when Boba seized up and then fell back against the wall. He'd ripped the bacta patch off Boba's shoulder. The wound had seemed to move and change. The skin stretching and discoloring into a sickly grey shade that rapidly spread outwards.

“Do something!”

The child had whimpered at the shouted command. That was what had finally brought Din back to himself.

“Please, you can help him. I can’t- “

It wasn't fair of him to ask. Din had seen how much it took from the child to use his abilities. Din was the one who was supposed to protect him. Not the other way around. Still the child looked at him with a trust Din didn't know if he deserved yet.

"I'm here, don’t worry." Din forced his voice into something gentler, taking the child into his arms and settled him against his chest. "We can help him."

It hadn't happened like before, when the child healed Karga. The wound hadn't closed up before Din's very eyes. It had been slow, almost like the venom fought back. The spread of the swelling veins of discolored skin came to a halt. He didn't know how to describe it exactly but the wound seemed to calm and settle. When the tension left child's body with a small sigh, Boba's back bowed off the wall as he gasped for breath.

"You did it. Good job, kid," Din whispered, making sure the wrappings held the child, who was already in a deep sleep. He stroked him over the forehead with his knuckles. "Now it's my turn."

He reapplied the bacta patch the best he could. Boba barely moved under his touch and mumbled something faintly. What Din had done next made him a hypocrite.

Boba turned his head towards Din. His face pale and clammy, eyes wide open for a second before they fluttered half-closed. His eyes seemed to lock onto Din, watching as he checked that the temperature regulator in Boba's helmet was still up and running. It was, even after being knocked around by the terentatek.

"We're getting out of here," Din said. He wasn't sure if Boba had heard him or if he had even been aware of what was happening. It made it easier to focus when he returned the helmet to Boba.

The trek out of the mines had been slow and by the time they reached the abandoned wasteland of Deimos' surface again, Boba had been burning up. It was fortunate that Din was already accustomed to handling a speeder accompanied by a mostly unconscious person. Though he was gentler this time than he'd ever been with any of his bounties.

**

There had been no way he'd be able to keep watch over Boba by shoving him into Din's usual sleeping space. He made the best of it out in the cargo hold after tucking the kid away in his usual spot.

Deimos' spaceport didn't offer the best supplies but from the rundown medcenter, Din found what he needed. On his way back to the ship, the old Rodian chose for the first time to look up from whatever engaging story _Galactic Gossip_ had to offer.

“I know a good place to hide the body."

Din stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around to face her. 

“He’s not dead," he said.

She shrugged. "Not yet. Let me know if you change your mind." Her attention was soon drawn back to her holopad. "Whatever you decide, I didn't see anything. You leave a better tip and accidents happen all the time."

Din turned his back to her, with some unease, and walked back to the _Razor Crest_.

There wasn't much for Din to do after making use of the supplies he'd bought at the medcenter. He occupied himself with giving Boba's armor the care it deserved. That at least anchored him somewhat. Din looked over each piece of armor. Cleaning and assessing the integrity of it. Where he could, Din applied a few quick fix repairs. It wasn't beskar, but durasteel had served Din well for many years before he upgraded. Just as it had served Boba now.

It was a good distraction and the worst kind of reminder. As much as Din hoped for Boba waking up, he dreaded it too.

The holocron still remained a mystery and Din wasn't exactly eager to return to the cave to search for an answer. Even if he had been, he couldn't begin to think about how long it would take to find it. Assuming there still existed an answer to the mystery or if it died with the Jedi. When Boba woke up, Din had to decide on the next step in his search. It wasn't the only thing he'd need to deal with when Boba woke up. He didn’t know what to do about either those things when that happened.

For so long, Din had been part of something and alone at the same time. Then he'd found the child and he hadn't been alone anymore. And then Boba Fett had showed up and refused to leave Din alone. So much had changed, in so little time. Din hadn't expected any of it. Yet a part of him had anticipated Boba reaching out for him and he'd readily returned the affection.

It had been important to Boba too, it had to. Unless Din had just as readily overlooked the venom twisting Boba's thoughts from the second it entered his body.

As if sensing Din's mood, the child, who’d bounced back quicker than Boba, stopped pottering around the ship and went over to him. The sight of him helped Din's thoughts settle into something calmer. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when the kid took an interest in the armor laid out in neat rows and stacks once Din had finished going over each piece. Boba’s belt with attached pouches were among them. Din guessed the kid was trying to find any goodies Boba hadn’t been made to hand over yet.

The smile disappeared instantly when Din realized it wasn't frogs or candy the kid had went searching for.

“No!”

The kid used his best innocent chirp, it didn't go well with the deadly weapon in his hands. Din tore the lightsaber away from him and received a deeply wounded look in return.

“This isn’t a toy.”

He waggled his finger at the kid for good measure. He’d never seen the kid look so utterly offended at anything before.

“It’s for your own good.”

That earned him a pout in reply.

A good reason as any to stop letting his thoughts run in circles and do something. Storing Boba’s armor and the weapon he’d found somewhere safe and out of reach from the kid to begin with.

Then there was the question of the credits Din had left. Staying in one place for too long was a bad idea when you were on the run. The hangar Boba had found kept the _Razor Crest_ off any official records but that had its price. With their unexpected and extended stay on Deimos along with the med-supplies, Din had to figure out a way to make up for it. At least if he wanted to avoid being hard-pressed for credits once he left Deimos. A way that didn't garner too much attention would be preferable too.

The thing was that he’d already thought of a possible solution to the dilemma. It was one based more on his lack of options rather than well-reasoned strategy. It kept Din second guessing himself the entire way to the cockpit but it wasn’t like he had any other possible friendly contacts out in Wild Space. He wasn't even certain this one was still in the same sector anymore.

**

“How did you get my comm?” Dengar barked at Din through the flickering hologram.

“Manaroo gave it to me.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dengar sighed. “That sounds like her.”

"Oh, it's you!" The fuzzy image of Manaroo's face entered the hologram, she seemed to be leaning over the back of Dengar's chair. "Where's the kid?" she asked before Din could say anything.

That wasn't to say Din hadn't expected the question. It was the reason he brought the kid with him to the cockpit.

"He's even cuter than I remember!"

The child soaked up the attention to a degree one would think Din spent most of his time ignoring him completely. If it was payback because Din had barred him from playing with a deadly weapon, Din was willing to accept it as well as the awkwardness of the situation.

“And he’s wearing the hat too!” Manaroo gushed. “Does he like it?”

To the same extent, Din was willing to endure Dengar glowering at him. It was a cheap tactic but Din would use the few advantages he had.

“He does,” Din said, lowering his hands and put the kid down next to him.

The child’s feelings in regards to the hat were indifferent but that was unimportant considering the circumstances for Din’s call.

“I need work.” Din hesitated before he continued. “I can’t contact the Guild.”

"So this isn't a social call? I'm hurt." Dengar frowned. "Wait, why're you calling us for that? Where's Fett? If he's off somewhere brooding, try throwing something at him. Pretty sure he won't shoot you."

"Does that work?" Manaroo asked.

"How should I know? I'm not suicidal," Dengar replied. "Like I said, I'm pretty sure Fett won't try to kill the Mando."

"He's injured," Din said curtly, although he wasn't convinced that Boba wouldn't want to shoot him when he woke up.

“Again? You’re not exactly a good luck charm, are you?”

Dengar's words made Din shift uneasily.

"I'm sure Dengar can find you some work through the Guild, they won't have to know we asked for help." Manaroo winked. "We'll even give you a discount on the finder's fee. It's no trouble at all."

"I wouldn't say it's no trouble- " Dengar started but Manaroo lovingly punched his shoulder without looking away from Din. It seemed to hurt her more than him but served the purpose of making Dengar look chastised. "I'll see what I can find for you," he said, scowling at Din as if he’d reached through the hologram to punch him.

“We’ll come and help too,” Manaroo said.

“You don’t have to- “

“Send your coordinates.” The voice she used to interrupt Din was the kind he hadn't tried to challenge since before he earned his first set of armor. "If Fett is hurt enough for you to call us, without him hovering around menacingly, then you can't just leave him alone while you do the job, right?"

“You don’t even like Fett,” Dengar muttered. “Now you want to help him again?”

“We’re helping the Mando,” Manaroo said. “And we’ll get to meet the kid again.”

Dengar shuddered. “Wonderful.”

“See?” Manaroo turned towards Din again with a smile. “It all works out. I’ll come along with you and Dengar can watch Fett.”

“I’d like to remind everyone again that I’m not a nurse droid.”

“No. I know, Dengar,” Manaroo said, without looking at him. “I’m well aware of that but Fett at least talks to you.”

“That’s because I annoy him,” Dengar said, sounding unreasonably proud of the fact. “You’re too nice.”

The way Manaroo turned to look at Dengar with exasperated fondness made Din feel like he'd intruded on something by accident. He’d hoped for something less complicated but if sending them the coordinates meant putting an end to this, he was willing to do that too. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

**

When Boba woke up, Din is relieved most of all. Boba was alive. Exhausted and clearly uncomfortable with the entire thing, but alive. And since it was Boba, he also succeeded in annoying Din with the first thing he said to him after waking up. Somehow, those two feelings didn’t cancel each other out. They went together, warm and familiar, in a way that baffled Din a little. Still, it was something he would miss when it was gone.

Once Boba recovered, both of them would have to decide what came next and Boba had already done more that Din would’ve ever asked of him. Din had never claimed to be any kind of good luck charm. His own life was enough proof against that. He never set out to look for trouble but it was like Boba had said; Din complicated things. But even if this was the limit to Boba’s offer to help, Din would help him now.

Not that it stopped Din from hesitating when it came to something as simple as helping Boba to sit up. It shouldn't have made him hesitate. The familiarity between them had grown until there was no going back from it. But it had changed and turned into something new and different the moment Boba tapped their helmets together, with an almost violent desperation. Din felt like he was trying to catch up. He didn’t know what it meant anymore. What he wanted it to mean.

The moment they shared, the one Boba claims he “didn’t want to ruin”, had gone beyond the need for words. That had at least been what Din thought then.

Boba, on his part, had seemed equally unwilling to talk about it. He moves from the subject onto the next cause of Din’s festering sense of guilt. He turns the fact that Din took his helmet into a joke and then, almost in the same breath, gives Din the forgiveness he needs. Even if he doesn’t seem to think there’s a need for any kind of absolution, Boba gives it to him anyway.

It left Din reeling and the promise of real work, something to focus on other than this, was a relief in more ways than one. It wasn't the kind of work Din had usually bothered with. Low risk, which meant low pay. Now he takes what he can get, or rather what Dengar could find on Deimos, and an easy job offered an easy distraction. The extra credits were more than welcome too.

“You sure you’re alright with going at it alone?” Dengar said to Manaroo when Din met up with them outside the Razor Crest.

“I can handle some lowlife and I’m not going alone.” Manaroo nodded at Din in greeting. “Besides, I know how to use a blaster,” she said and patted the holster around her hip.

Dengar elbowed Din. “You should’ve seen what she did to the stormtroopers we ran into when we first met.”

“Please.” Manaroo giggled. “You took out most of them.”

“Still!” Dengar grinned and elbowed Din in the side again. “Beautifully done, if you ask me.”

Din made a subtle attempt to put some space between them in case Dengar tried it a third time.

"I'll check on the kid, then we can go," Din said to Manaroo, he glanced at Dengar. "He's awake now."

“If Fett kills me, you can have my blasters,” Dengar proclaimed grandly to Manaroo, who wasn't too impressed with his theatrics.

“Who else would you give them to?” she said. “Most of them are stored on _our_ ship anyway.”

“Your concern for my wellbeing is noted."

“If you’re worried, try to not annoy him as much as you usually do.”

“That’s going to be hard.” Dengar looked like he was actually trying to calculate the possibilities of that succeeding in his head. “He’s always been an ornery bastard.”

Din squashed the urge to sigh but couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. If only to stop them, meaning Dengar and Manaroo, from standing around talking for longer than necessary, he offered his own opinion on the matter.

"To be fair," Din said. "Fett knows how to be annoying too."

“You know what?” Dengar smirked at Din. “I think I’m starting to like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please look at this amazing art frostedangst made of the Din and Boba’s Keldabe moment in chapter 14. I love it so much and I’ve looked at it so many times now, love the colors and style! https://frostedbasilisk.tumblr.com/post/640598990295089153/agonistic-courtships-newest-chapter-has-me-on-the


	16. Intercepted

Boba stared determinedly up at the ceiling. He’d been through so much worse than this, he would get through this too. Even if the kid had wandered off, leaving him to deal with it on his own.

“So we’re back to this then? The silent treatment?”

He wasn’t helpless. Why the Mando had thought he’d need someone to watch over him while he was gone was completely beyond Boba.

“Can’t be comfortable lying down with that helmet of yours.”

If this was a result of the Mando’s ever present need to act like an overprotective tooka-mother, Boba wished he’d found another way to express it.

“You know it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Of course, you’re probably better looking now than when I last saw your face.”

Boba spotted a part of the ceiling with an oddly shaped stain. That was good. Something to look at while he waited.

“Back then your face was like a slab of raw meat.” 

All he had to do was to be patient. Boba could do that.

“Made me look handsome in comparison.”

Boba scoffed. “You’ve never looked handsome.”

He frowned at the victorious grin that spread over Dengar’s decidedly ugly face.

“I’ll have you know that Manaroo thinks I have a certain roguish charm about me,” Dengar said.

"Have you checked if she needs cybernetic eye-implants too?”

For once, it was Dengar who ignored him. He pushed two crates together, by the wall opposite to Boba and made himself comfortable, resting his feet on one of the smaller crates.

“You’re getting sloppy in your old age, Fett.”

Boba pressed his lips together, his mouth set in a hard line. There was the always a slim chance that if he didn’t give Dengar anything more, he’d loose interest.

“Don’t feel too bad about it, happens to the best of us.”

It had never worked before but there was always a first time for everything.

“That new scar you’ve got isn’t too shabby though,” Dengar went on. He leaned back, weaving his hands together and resting them on his stomach. “Makes a guy wonder what you got up to with your new Mando-buddy.”

Dengar was truly terrible at feigning nonchalance. It was sad to watch.

“So… uh… “ Dengar cleared his throat awkwardly. “Did something happen?”

“Obviously something happened,” Boba snapped.

He lifted himself up, leaning on his bent arm. His helmet hadn’t been designed with bedrest in mind but it was mostly to make sure Dengar didn’t feel too safe.

“I meant if something happened between the two of you,” Dengar said. “I thought you were getting along well. I was actually starting to enjoy getting to know the new chatty Boba Fett.” 

Dengar had a talent for picking the worst times to be perceptive. It was annoying. Almost as annoying as when he took Boba’s silence as an answer to his question.

“You… you didn’t try to kill him, did you?” he said with grimace and actually looked disappointed.

“No. I didn’t try to kill the Mando," Boba said and made a face at Dengar.

“Oh, that’s good!” Dengar sighed a breath of relief. “Would’ve been a shame. You’ve done a great job of not scaring him off yet. He’s seen your face, right?”

Boba grunted, a raspy and inarticulate sound, the tone of it caught somewhere between pained and despairing.

“And he didn’t run off? That means you’re halfway there already.” Dengar stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Although, that does bring the Mando’s preferences into question but each to their own, I guess.”

The sarlacc had been nothing.

This.

This was rock bottom.

Dengar trying to give him advice about life. Boba had never done anything to encourage this kind of behavior.

“Wait… “ Dengar’s feet dropped to the floor with a thud as he leaned forward. “Was it the Mando who did something?”

That was the end of Dengar's uncanny streak of being right. The Mando hadn't done anything. It was all because of what Boba had done. He'd gone and told him the truth. That Boba Fett was a ruthless killer. A weapon made flesh.

“He tagged me with a tracker,” Boba said matter-of-factly.

It had made sense the Mando would’ve done something like that, given what he'd learned about Boba. It was what happened afterwards that didn't make sense to him.

“Without you knowing about it?” Dengar let a low whistle. “Not bad for a no-name.”

That very punchable grin was back on his face again. That it had been two trackers in total was information that would die with Boba. He trusted the Mando wouldn't talk.

“He must’ve gotten pretty close to you to do that,” Dengar said. “Were you distracted by something?”

Boba crossed his arms and stared up at the ceiling again.

“Or by someone?”

He wished the Mando would’ve left his blaster within reach too.

"I'm not surprised," Dengar said. "I mean, this is the second time I had to babysit you after the Mando snatched you away from the jaws of death."

He was more right than he knew. A stormtrooper hit their target once in a while. The Mando had wanted to find him, not hunt him down. He’d said as much before Boba had put him on the spot. Who said no to dying man?

Well.

Boba had done it many times. Usually because he was the reason they were dying and they usually very much wished for him to not finish the job. The Mando was different. He had a creed to live by. He was prepared to die for someone else.

Sure, Boba had been prepared to do that too but maybe not for the right reasons.

The child interrupted Boba's thoughts before they could completely spiral out of control. It also put an end to Dengar's dogged interrogation. At least for now. The kid was a lifesaver in more ways than one, one of them being quite literal Boba suspected.

Speaking of life and death, the kid marched up to Boba as if he had a mission of that kind. He didn't spare Dengar so much as a glance, which seemed to be a relief to Dengar. He carried something with him in his small, clawed hands and he presented it to Boba with an inquisitive squeak.

“Yeah, that’s yours,” Boba said. “If you want it.”

The kid’s eyes lit up and it was a little distressing to see how much joy such a simple thing brought him. Boba had no idea what his life had been like before the Mando found him but he imagined there wasn’t much he’d like about it.

“I haven’t seen one of those in ages.” Dengar leaned in closer. “Had one just like it when I was kid.”

Despite the distance between him and Dengar, the kid was quick to close his hands around the gift. He pressed it close to himself with a low sound which was probably the closest the kid could get to an actual growl.

“Oh no,” Dengar muttered as he leaned back against the wall again. “He’s actually starting to take after you, Fett.”

Boba smirked and patted the kid on the head. Good behavior should be encouraged.

“Make yourself useful and find us something to eat,” Boba said.

Dengar got up with an exaggerated groan and ambled off.

Boba pushed himself up the rest of the way and leaned back against the wall, pulling his legs into a cross-legged position. The kid plopped himself down, leaning against Boba's knee, still absorbed in his new trinket.

When Dengar returned, he was thoughtful enough to simply throw one of the ration bars at Boba. He caught it mid-air and tried to not be too pleased about feeling more like himself. He did allow himself to enjoy Dengar apprehensively edging as close as he dared before he dropped a second ration bar by the kid.

“I’ll just- “ Dengar began and gestured to the door with the ration bar he’d of course grabbed for himself.

His eyes widened when Boba removed his helmet before he could finish the sentence. Boba glared at him, daring him to say anything about it. He didn't, which was honestly quite impressive self-restraint for Dengar, and went back to his little setup with the crates.

The kid ignored the ration bar at first but after watching Boba eat his, he grabbed it and continued staring up at Boba while he nibbled on it. Boba guessed it was taking off his helmet that made him into a curious novelty. The kid wasn't the only one staring at him though. Dengar watched him too, like he was trying to figure something out. His thinking and chewing were equally noisy.

Boba’s eye twitched.

“I think he trusts me.” Boba paused. “He might have trusted me at least.”

Dengar lifted an eyebrow. “Have you given him a reason not to?”

Boba closed his eyes because watching Dengar talk with food in his mouth was terrible on so many levels. Unfortunately, Dengar again took that as permission to put his own spin on Boba's lack of answer.

“So you did do something, huh?” Boba could hear the smirk in his voice. “Why, you sly bastard. Tried sweeping him off his feet?”

Boba opened his eyes to glare at him.

"If it didn't go well, I wouldn't worry about it," Dengar said, oblivious or indifferent to the heated glare. “He’s still seems pretty keen on you.”

Dengar waggling his eyebrows was only marginally less terrible than his chewing. 

“He told me he thinks you’re annoying," Dengar said, like it was quite the scandalous revelation.

“Not everyone is like Manaroo and thinks that’s a good thing," Boba sneered.

The kid had grown bored of the ration bar and instead of eating it, had started to crumble it between his hands. His table manners were still better than Dengar's and the kid couldn’t even reach up to most tables. Boba picked the kid up, brushing away the crumbs the best he could.

“Yeah, I know. I did say I questioned his taste.” Dengar's tone was worryingly innocent. “I can see why you like him though.”

Boba held the kid up to his face.

"You should’ve let me die," Boba deadpanned in a whisper.

The kid's chewing slowed until it came to a complete stop. He frowned and without any warning, the kid jabbed what was left of the ration bar up Boba’s nose.

“You know what? I’m glad I didn’t kill you on Tatooine when I had the chance. This is so much better," Dengar said cheerily as Boba sputtered. "And the little green guy's starting to grow on me too."

“Hey, kid? Want to do me a favor?” Boba put the kid down and wiped a hand over his face. “Go get my blaster. I need to shoot Dengar.”

“Child labor?” Dengar clicked his tongue. “That’s low even for you, Fett.”

The kid tilted his head as he gave Boba a nonplussed look. Somehow the mannerism reminded Boba of the Mando.

“You know,” Boba tried. “The thing that makes loud noises.”

“Ptcheeww,” Dengar added. He probably thought he was helping.

The kid glanced curiously at Dengar before he waddled away again. Dengar smirked at Boba as if he expected Boba to lower himself to his level.

He wasn’t.

Boba put his helmet back on and stared Dengar down.

The cargo hold was blessedly silent for a few minutes.

“That’s not what a blaster sounds like,” Boba muttered, chalking up this new personal defeat to almost dying twice in a short amount of time. It had been exhausting.

“Let’s hear it then.” Dengar’s smirk widened into a grin. “What does a blaster sound like?”

That’s when the child returned to the hold again. He had brought something with him this time too. Only it wasn’t Boba’s blaster or anything Boba had expected him to find.

“What the hell? Is that? Where did he even- “ Dengar stumbled over his words and didn’t get far before he choked on air and possibly a bit of ration bar.

The kid proudly held up his find for them to see and Dengar hastily got up, backing away. When Boba had first suggest it, it had seemed like such a good idea. Many ideas did when there was a concussion and painkillers involved.

“Take it from him!” Boba hissed at Dengar, voice low so not to startle the kid. “Grab it!”

“How?”

Boba stared long at hard at him. “He’s a small child, Dengar.”

Dengar nodded sagely. “Exactly.”

Boba silently despaired over the company he's forced to keep these days.

“Fett,” Dengar whispered, eyes locked on the kid as if he’d attacked any second. “He’s looking at me funny again.”

“I once saw you stab a Gamorrean right up the snout,” Boba said, not holding back on the scorn. “This shouldn’t be hard.”

“That was different. The Gamorrean wasn’t looking at me funny.” Dengar paused for a beat. “Okay, he did give me one funny look. That’s why I had to stab him.”

He gestured at the kid, who looked genuinely confused by their behavior.

“But I can’t stab him, now can I?” he said in a shouted whisper. “Manaroo would kill me.”

The Mando was going to kill Boba if anything happened to the kid. Assuming the kid didn't get to it first, even if only by accident.

“Can’t you do it?” Dengar said. “He likes you and I’d like to keep all my fingers.”

Boba got up. It wasn't as bad as before but there was a slight woozy sensation. Like his head wasn't used to the altitude just yet or the quick ascent required to stand up. Boba took one pitiful step forward before a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

“Alright, alright… “ Dengar muttered.

He moved fast when he wanted to and his grip on Boba’s shoulder was steady. Dengar didn’t look his way, which was appreciated in these circumstances. It was a rare occurrence, but sometimes Dengar wasn’t all that bad to be around.

“Can’t have you chasing down a kid in your underwear, now can we?”

Scratch that. He was that bad. All the time. Now and forever.

Boba felt no shame in relishing the look on Dengar’s face as he edged closer to the kid. Like a man walking to his own execution. The child tilted his head and Dengar flinched. It was, Boba wasn’t afraid to admit it to himself, an almost intimidating gesture when the kid was holding the lightsaber.

**

For the first time, in what felt like an eternity to Din, the job was as easy as advertised. He didn’t regret his choices when it came to the child, but nowadays it was just one thing after another.

The cantina where the target had holed up was simple to find. Flushing him out had been no problem. Manaroo had strolled right in, no heads turning in her direction. The target had been all too willing to let her fawn over how well he played sabacc. When her innocent questions had started to become more specific, he'd been quick to excuse himself and try and escape through the backdoor. That brought him right where Din wanted him. Away from prying eyes and possible allies. The kind of allies who'd had enough liquid courage to think they stood a chance to win against Din.

The target had some liquid courage of his own, but it had been quick work to dissuade him from reaching for his blaster. All it took was a calm explanation of which conditions his body would be accepted in when delivered to the closest Guild representative. Boba wasn't the only one who knew a thing or two about intimidation. Din almost wished he'd been there to see it. Not the most impressive bounty he'd collected but it was still good work.

The target had practically begged to be allowed to give up without a fight after that. Almost enthusiastic at the prospect of being handed over to the Guild when he staggered on board Dengar and Manaroo's ship. Though finding and capturing him still took time and it was getting dark when they made their way back to the _Razor Crest_. But all in all, it had been a simple job. Something that was rarer nowadays than Din would've liked.

“That went well,” Manaroo said as they walked back. “Here’s your cut.”

Din glanced down at the credit stick in her outstretched hand.

“You haven’t been paid for it yet,” he pointed out.

“We can afford to pay your cut now. Dengar’s side-projects with Fett have been pretty lucrative over the years.” She wiggled her hand. “Come on, take it.”

Din wasn’t going to argue with her over that. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Manaroo said with a smile.

It wasn't much but it would help. Din didn't know where or when their next stop would be. Exploring the mines had been a shot in the dark but it had been a lead. A path to follow. But it had only led Din to a place where even with a lifetime double his own, there was little hope of finding anything below the surface of Deimos. Now there where so many paths to follow and that was when Din only thought about those that didn't include Boba. 

Dengar was waiting for them outside the ship when they got back. The wrappings around his head were a little askew and there was a haunted look in his eyes.

“How did it go?” Din said warily.

“Great!” Dengar’s reply was quick and he spoke fast. “He’s alive, if that’s what you’re asking. The kid, I mean. Fett too. They’re both alive. They’re both alive and nothing happened. We had a good time. How was your day?”

Din glanced at Manaroo who shrugged.

“I need a drink,” Dengar muttered and held something out for Din. “You can deal with this. Find a better hiding spot for a start.”

Din took the lightsaber from him and felt torn between frustration and pride of the kid's resourcefulness. 

“I’m not going to ask you about it. It’s your business,” Dengar said. “Fett’s too, I guess, but he never talks about anything anyway."

Manaroo did her best to fix his headwrap and her fussing seemed to improve Dengar’s downbeat mood.

“But maybe you should ask him about it, whatever’s going on. Or annoy him until he tells you. Up to you how you want to do it.” Dengar snorted. “Maybe it’s you two who need mindlink tech.”

Din wasn’t sure what mindlink tech was exactly but before he could form a response, Dengar turned to Manaroo.

“I was serious about that drink,” he said, giving Manaroo a doleful look and put an arm around her.

Manaroo patted the arm slung over her shoulders. “I know a good place.”

**

The _Razor Crest_ felt different when Din went inside. Most of its lights were off and it was quiet. Nothing out of the ordinary, before the kid this was what Din had always returned to after a job or a visit to the covert. He found himself simply standing there in the semidarkness. In the dim light, Din saw Boba and the child. They were asleep, with the child curled up beside Boba on the floor. Din couldn't help but watch them for a few seconds before he continued on his way up to the cockpit. He had a feeling they needed some time to rest undisturbed.

In the cockpit, Din unceremoniously put together a no-frills dinner, trying not think about what he would do next. He was usually quite adept at focusing on the task at hand but there was a lot he didn't want to think about at the moment.

The _Razor Crest_ was a tool, the power to provide for the tribe. But it had also been something that was his alone, a safe haven. Yet it had never felt this peaceful before. Like a world hidden away from the rest of the galaxy.

Though unlike the _Razor Crest_ , those who made it feel that way were not Din’s to keep.

Din only realized he’d dozed off when a noise from below made him jerk upright in the pilot's seat. He was a light sleeper out of necessity, like most bounty hunters Din suspected. The sound of someone else moving around in his ship was more than enough to rip him away from sleep. Din moved his head from side to side to get the kink out of his neck before he climbed down the ladder. He realized as he did, that despite the sound of other people onboard his ship being something unfamiliar, this one hadn't set off any alarms in his head.

He found the source of it in the cargo hold. Boba was awake and busy armoring up again, though the helmet was still where Din had seen it when he returned. The child was still fast asleep on the bed and there didn't seem to be any amount of racket that would wake him up. Boba froze when he saw Din.

“You should be resting,” Din said.

“I’ve been resting,” Boba replied. “And I’ll rest easier with this.”

He seemed to be waiting for whatever Din’s verdict would be.

“How do you feel?” Din asked.

“Better.”

A blunt but at least somewhat honest answer and with that said, Boba grabbed one of his wrist gauntlets and sat down on a crate. Din stood by and watched until Boba grunted in annoyance. Without a word, Din moved to his side. Their sets of armor were different in some ways but Din knew enough. Although it was a new experience to do this for someone else.

He tugged the gauntlet into place and deftly reattached the loose parts. It was then when he noticed the change in Boba. Din was once again reminded of his encounter with the injured and cornered nexu. Only this time, Din was the cause of it. He withdrew his hands and stepped away, slow and deliberate. Unhurried, he moved until there was some space between them. Boba watched his every step until Din leaned back against the wall on the other side.

Boba was the one to look away first. Ostensibly to check the gauntlet but he kept rubbing at the spot where Din had placed the first tracker.

“It’s not everyday someone pulls a fast one on me,” Boba said. “I’m impressed.”

The usual confidence was there in his voice but there was something else there too, right below the surface. The wry smile didn't look like how Din remembered it.

It clicked for him then and it was an ugly realization.

“You thought I didn’t trust you.”

Boba narrowed his eyes. “You shouldn’t trust me.”

“It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you,” Din said. “I told you that.”

Surprise flashed across Boba's face before he could compose a more stoic expression, like he hadn't expected Din to bring up what had been said. What Din had told him before Boba had pulled him into an unexpected keldabe. Though not unwanted and the mere thought of that made Din glad for his helmet.

And maybe Din didn't need any mindlink tech to notice the brief flash of emotion. But without it, he would need to find another way to make Boba understand.

“I had to know I could find you again,” Din said.

Boba glanced over at the pauldron Din had done his best to fix up, traces of the mark left by the terentatek still visible.

“You couldn’t have known any of that would happen,” Boba said.

“Did I know that a terentatek would attack us and that you’d almost get yourself killed?”

The expressionless mask briefly twitched with irritation but Din carried on, undaunted.

“No. I didn’t.” He crossed his arms. “Guess I only know you well enough by now to prepare.”

Boba remained impassive, keeping still like a predator ready to strike. Or to defend itself. It wasn’t completely clear.

“Do you usually try to get yourself killed this often?”

“Not usually, no,” Boba said. “There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.”

He leaned over and picked up the pauldron Din had repaired with the means he had. Boba had been right about wearing a helmet most of your life left you with a bad sabacc face. Despite that, he did a half decent job of acting like Din wasn't there. The weariness seeping into his bones had nothing to do with sleeping slumped over in the pilot’s seat. Din pushed away from the wall and for a second, Boba's eyes widened before he quickly composed himself again.

Din's feet were heavy as he walked over to sit down next to Boba.

“I think you told me more about yourself than you planned,” Din said, looking off to the side as he spoke.

His eyes fixed on Boba’s helmet. Maybe it was easier if he looked at that than at Boba’s face. Easier for him or for Boba, he didn’t know.

“I don’t know much about clones. After I was taken in by the tribe, I didn’t care enough to try and understand it.”

“What’s there to understand?” Boba snorted. “It’s a copy of a person.”

“An army of you? Sounds like a nightmare.”

If wearing a helmet had robbed him of a good sabacc face, Din had apparently no filter after years of only speaking when necessary. But he was tired. He was tired and Boba seemed to be actively trying to not understand.

“I’m sure the galaxy is still mostly in one piece because there’s only one of you,” Din said.

They were barely touching but Din felt Boba begin to shake next to him. Startled, Din turned his head. Boba was hunched over, head bowed and with his face hidden in his hands. For a horrifying moment, Din wondered if he’d made Boba Fett cry.

But when Boba looked up at him, his eyes gleamed and Din finally caught up with what was happening.

Boba was laughing.

His real laughter, the one Din liked. This time it was also the kind of laughter that Boba didn’t seem capable of holding back.

“That tribe of your must’ve lived under a rock,” Boba said, a little out of breath.

“It was mostly in sewers.”

Boba barked out another laugh and punched Din on the shoulder. Hard. It didn’t stop the sudden flare of joy in Din’s chest. If Boba thought he was joking, Din didn’t care enough to correct him. He didn’t want him to stop smiling like that. Not when Din was the reason for it, whatever that reason may be.

Behind Boba, the child nestled deeper under the blanket, still fast asleep.

“He trusts you too, he was never afraid of you,” Din said and for some unfathomable reason, that diminishes Boba’s smile.

“It can’t be that simple for you,” Boba said. “Trust is never that simple.”

“You’ve already said that.” Din shrugged. “To him, it’s that simple. Maybe it should be.”

Boba glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping child.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” Boba said. “He saved me.”

Boba had known the moment he saw the holocron. He'd figured it out even before he saw the child open it and reveal the map. Speaking about the powers the child possessed didn’t make it feel any less unreal to Din.

“He’s done it once before,” Din said. “It was different with you. There was a point where I didn’t think it would work.”

“Like you said, there’s lots of stories about terentateks. Maybe the one about them being immune to the Force is more than just a spacer tale.”

“The force?”

Boba’s mouth twitched, like he was fighting the urge to laugh again.

“You’re really something else,” he said and Din wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or not.

Not that it mattered now. Not when it truly felt like he’d found Boba again after they entered the cave hidden among the winding tunnels beneath the surface.

“I didn’t expect to survive that.” Boba looked over his shoulder again. “I suspected the kid had something to do with it, not that I completely understand how he did it.”

“I think I had a little to do with it too,” Din muttered. “I dragged the two of you out of there.”

“Yeah. You did.” Boba turned back to Din with a toothy grin. “I never thanked you for that, did I?”

Boba didn’t lean closer to him. He didn’t reach for Din, not this time. Din could still feel the possibility of it hanging in the air between them. Time slowed to crawl and Din wondered if he there was something he should do or say. Was Boba waiting for him?

The child murmured in his sleep and turned over and when he did, something fell out of his hand.

“What’s that?” Din blurted out. He immediately wanted to punch something. Possibly have someone punch him.

“What?” Boba croaked.

Din pointed. “That.”

It wasn’t that Din didn’t know what it was exactly, even if he hadn’t had much experience with those kind of things. It was a toy. A small ship with sleek lines, faded paint and a chipped wingtip. It had been through a lot before the kid got his hands on it. One thing Din was sure of, he hadn’t been the one to give it to him.

“It’s uh… “

Din's full attention snapped back to Boba again. It was always a novel thing when the other bounty hunter got tongue-tied.

“It’s a Corellian Interceptor,” Boba said, staring up at the ceiling as if it offered him the answers to everything he'd ever wanted to know.

Din knew with absolute certainty that life was in fact never simple. The many possible paths that laid before him was still overwhelming to think about. But this? This was simple. Something that stoked the joy inside of him.

“Like the one you had?” Din asked, smiling at the annoyed glare Boba sent his way.

“Not exactly like the one I had,” Boba grumbled. “Look. The Weequay told me to pick something from his collection of junk. I saw it. I took it. Thought the kid might like it. Kept it on me but didn’t have a chance to give it to him before we set off for the mines. He must’ve found it where you stashed my armor.”

He ducked his head.

“Thought it could be nice.”

“It is,” Din said and reached out.

He'd done this before. A light touch to the shoulder. To hold Boba back or to reassure. Now it was an entirely new thing, he gripped Boba's shoulder tightly and couldn't bring himself to let go when Boba leaned into it. A frisson of excitement ran through him.

He’d grown used to never seeing the faces of those close to him but it was a thrill to see Boba now. To be able to see the way he looked at Din. It was terrifying and Din couldn’t look away from it. His grip eased up, little by little, and Din's hand wandered along Boba's shoulder. Brushing against the creased fabric.

Then his hand went straight to his blaster at sudden loud bang from outside the ship. Din was on his feet in a fraction of a second, blaster at the ready as he keyed opened the ship door. 

“Whoa, hey! Don’t shoot!”

Din relaxed and lowered his blaster. Out of the corner of his eyes, Din saw Boba sway forward as if his touch was all that held him upright as he grabbed his helmet. Dengar had put his hands down but he still looked frazzled. More so than when Din had last seen him.

“Bad news,” Dengar said. “The- “

He cut himself off with a broad grin.

“Sorry, did I interrupt something?” he asked in a tone that suggested that he was anything but remorseful.

Din caught a glimpse of the murderous look on Boba's face before it was once again hidden behind the dark visor.

“What is it?” Din said in a tight voice.

“We’ve got a problem.”

“Did your circuits go on the fritz again?” Boba sneered.

“Very funny, Fett,” Dengar said. “I didn’t have to warn you. Only did it out of the goodness of my heart.”

“Spit it out.”

Dengar replied with rude gesture before a more serious demeanor took over.

“The New Republic have arrived to Deimos,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s hard work being the galaxy’s best AND worst wingman. Dengar deserves a reward.


End file.
